


Walking the Line

by buttcatcher



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Dissociative Identity Disorder, F/M, I have a plan for this I swear, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Build, and a few more pairings but I'll add them as they show up, spamano is the main pairing, tons of tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 90,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttcatcher/pseuds/buttcatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe stumbling into Walmart in search of supplies during the end of the world wasn't as good of an idea as Lovino initially thought. Nothing screamed desperate like raiding the aisles of a fucking Walmart for food while a hoard of the undead snarled at him from outside, but that didn't seem to matter to the armed trio he stumbled into, or more specifically, the odd Spaniard munching on Skittles.</p><p>His ideas were getting to be pretty lackluster these days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Walmart Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic and I have really big plans for it so I hope you enjoy!

When people think about the apocalypse- a world suddenly overcome with zombies, a plague, a terrorist attack- they imagine a sudden outbreak. A contagion, a disease, or even a riot that happens overnight. They think of patient zero, the catalyst to the end of the world. Sometimes there’s some half assed reason or hypothesis, anything to explain what was happening. People think they’ll wake up one day and find the world thrown into chaos with no warning.

That wasn’t what happened in real life though. Maybe in video games or movies, but had Lovino never liked them as much as his boisterous roommate so he wasn’t the best person to ask about that.

In reality, no one knew why it happened and he doubted anyone ever would, certainly not for lack of trying. Maybe Mother Earth just decided that humanity was cutting down too many of her forests and polluting too many of her resources so she released some kind of pathogen that pushed humanity back to the brink of extinction so her Earth could flourish once again.

His guess was as good as anyone’s.

It was a slow decline, one that ran its course over the span of a week. Seven days was all it took for the goddamn virus to reach every end of the Earth, every continent afflicted with the infection. The virus resulted in millions of fatalities all over the globe as it progressed, catching the attention of people he wasn’t sure were still kicking at this point. The World Health Organization had been the first to speak up about the small outbreaks happening on the northern part of the globe, spokespeople going on live TV and assuring the public that it was just a strain of rabies and that a vaccine would be produced shortly. They promised everyone that there was nothing to panic about, that everything would be fine.

What a load of bullshit that was.

After all their talk about politics and arguing over what to do, nothing really came to show for it. Most Safe Houses were taken over a soon as they were set up. In retrospect, he wasn’t surprised little to none of them made it. The people that somehow managed to reach them probably hadn’t been strong enough to keep the dead out, something Lovino couldn’t fault them for since he knew he would have probably failed at protecting it too. 

He would know. He had found one once on the first week the infection had set in. They were a last ditch effort the government made days before the infection spread across Maine and a nationwide state of emergency was called.

Martial law was a lot more effective when there were living people to enforce it.

Before it was put into practice, the government had managed to set aside places like schools and stores without too many windows to label as ‘Safe Zones’ before martial law was declared. It was a pretty piss poor attempt on the government’s part. Each of the ‘houses’ were equipped with enough food for roughly fifty people, the supplies enough to last for a week or two at the most, or so they said. In theory they were nearly as perfect as anything could be when only permitted a week for preparation. 

With how assuring the government seemed to be on news channels and radio shows as the virus progressed, Lovino thought they should have gotten their shit together and formulated halfway decent places of refuge for their citizens with the week they had before the infection swept through the country like a tidal wave.

The Safe Houses were too good to be true though. Everything was. As soon as he made it across the dirt road to the rusted gate of an elementary school with a ‘Free Zone’ sign hanging off one of the handles and a fresh bundle of hope in his chest in that first week, he peeked through the bars only to discover his last hope overrun by _them._

Those _things._ He didn’t know what they were, but they definitely weren’t human. What human tries to eat another person as they scream and beg for their life? None, as far as Lovino knew.

Those walking nightmares weren’t fast at all. Given that they attacked people like savages, it was their only redeemable quality. They ambled around and bumped into each other as they groaned like the world had done them some kind of cruel injustice by not providing them with people to devour. They weren’t anything like the zombies in those movies where they sprinted at fifty miles an hour and jumped off buildings to take down prey. No, these things were slow, stupid, and relatively easy to take down.

Hell, he would probably go cow tipping with them if they weren’t so dangerous once they got their hands on their victims.

What they lacked in cognitive abilities they made up for with their crazy strength. With a grip like a vice, it was difficult to dislodge them once they had someone in their arms. Lovino had come across a band of survivors in the second week, a teenage couple, who made the mistake of not checking around a corner when they were running and ran into a few of the walkers. All it took was for one of them to hesitate and they were done for, harsh hands grabbing them and forcing them into submission as more poured into the backyard. It would have been pointless for him to try and help as he took the opportunity to escape; they were already bitten so they were as good as dead anyway.

Once someone got bit they had less than twelve hours before they turned.

From what he had seen of people who had the misfortune of having a run in with snapping jaws, the dead ambled right past them without a care in the world, almost as if the poor soul waiting to be turned into one of them wasn’t even there.

To be painfully honest, from the few run-ins and close calls he had with those creatures, he couldn’t think of what to call them. ‘Zombies’ didn’t sound right and ‘things’ didn’t fit either, so he settled for calling them walkers. That’s what they did so that’s what he called them. It was simple. 

What wasn’t simple was remembering where it started. Probably somewhere in Europe or in the backwoods of some backwater town in the United States, though even when the virus was still in the early stages of spreading, no one could say for certain where it originated from. Given how easy it was to just hop on a plane and be on the other side of the world in no more than a few hours, it wasn’t a surprise the virus had spread so quickly from wherever it had started. He didn’t know if someone discovered where it began or why but it didn’t really matter anymore. It stopped meaning something to him when he narrowly escaped the snarling jaws of his neighbor Julia, an elderly lady with thick rimmed glasses and equally thick limbs the first night it hit his small town in Maine. ‘Homely’ was the word he would have used to describe her but the word ‘possessed’ seemed more fitting in the end, her yellow gnashing teeth and wild eyes nothing like the soft-spoken old woman who had brought him cookies when he moved into the apartment next door six months ago.

That had been his first encounter and was far from his last.

His only hope was that Feliciano didn’t have to deal with these things as much as he did, that his squeamish brother was safe in a Safe Zone somewhere that wasn’t overtaken like the one he had stumbled upon. That was his only motivation to survive: find his brother and get them to safety. Where they would go once they were reunited wasn’t something he had worked out yet. It was something he was still working on, using the nights he actually managed to get more than four hours of sleep as his opportunity to brainstorm places that couldn’t possibly be overrun, and when he wasn’t thinking up possible places to escape to, he revisited memories he wished he could change. Or more specifically, one in particular. 

He never should have let his brother go with his college friend to his family across the state two months ago. The warnings played on repeat on the evening news and the radio mere days after he left should have persuaded him get into his car and drag the idiot back, but the puppy eyes that had been turned on him were enough to persuade him into agreeing against his better judgement. Back in the early stages of the outbreak, the reporters and reporters simply called it a ‘rabies warning’. It was laughable to think that whatever those things roaming the streets were infected with could possibly be rabies or anything like that, but at the time, he simply shook his head and told Feliciano not to go near any animals and call as soon as he arrived. So, with many promises that he would be fine and that there was nothing to worry about, Lovino let him go.

The world turned to shit before he could get a call. The memory alone was enough to bring tears to his eyes but he hastily rubbed them away with his dirtied palms before they could fall.

That one mistake was his burden to carry alone as he set out to track down his brother in the crumbling world he called home.

-

As the days dragged into weeks and then into months, his only thoughts were of his twin.

The thoughts wore down on his subconscious as well as his body day in and day out, already exhausted and malnourished from just trying to stay alive. Devouring what little rations of food he had left from earlier supply runs were barely enough to keep him alive as he pushed his beaten and bruised body north in search of his brother. Every brown haired walker that crossed his path nearly gave him a heart attack, the possibility of one of them being Feliciano too great for him not to panic each time.

Sleeping in whatever small spaces he could find and secure along the way didn’t help his physical condition nor his state of mind either. Whether it was a room he found thankfully clear of the dead in a boarded up house that had already been ransacked or the shed of someone’s yard, hunkered down behind as many object as he could put in front of and around himself, he always slept in a cramped space.

The more cramped it was, the safer he felt. Safety was hard to come by these days so the fact stood that the more surrounded he felt by objects that would make noise if something were to try and get at him, the more at ease he felt.

And at the end of the world, it was more than he could ever hope to feel.

But none of that mattered now. Hell, right now all he was trying to do was recall why he thought hitting up Walmart for supplies two months after the start of the apocalypse was a good idea. If that overweight asshole in one of those tacky blue employee shirts trying to grab at him in the trashed parking lot was anything to go by, this Walmart idea was looking pretty fucking lackluster. 

Now wasn’t the time to be picky, though. That store off the corner of the street he used to live on, Bella’s Essentials, provided him with barely enough food to keep himself going for another three days. As expected of a family run store with perishable food that spoiled easily, but hey, he wasn’t complaining. Those awful trail mix bars kept him kicking for longer than he would have expected. 

That was a week ago.

Needless to say, he was ravenous.

Kitchen knife in hand, the flimsy piece of metal he put his trust in the moment he realized what was going on outside his apartment window shaking in his grasp, he stepped over the trashed shopping carts blocking the entrance and pushed the fat fucker making swipes at him away. The gurgles coming from between his- no, it’s flabby lips made his stomach churn but he couldn’t afford to leave this thing behind and risk the chances of it sneaking up on him and having a midafternoon snack. No, he had to dispose of it.

Getting rid of the walkers that managed to sneak up on him or make a move on him was his least favorite part of the apocalypse. The shortage of food and water he could handle. The glassy eyes staring at him from behind fogged irises and those nasty, grubby hands that reached for him during nights of fruitless sleeping efforts, not so much.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t kill them, though. He just preferred to run. There was a better chance of survival that way, avoiding confrontation the only way to ensure safety. Unfortunately this situation wasn’t one he could run away from, as much as he wished it was. So instead of dwelling on the fact that this was the fourth one of these things he’s had to kill that week alone, Lovino made quick work of driving his knife into one of the fucker’s sunken eye sockets, its plump body falling limp on his arm as he ripped the weapon out and let the body crumble to the ground. It was through trial and error that he found what killed these things, and he wasn’t willing to make the same mistake twice. Not in this world. 

“Shit…” He grumbled under his breath as he assessed his arm, now painted a lovely shade of red courtesy of the waste of space by his feet. His knife was in an even worse state, black chunks of decaying flesh and what looked like a cornea stuck on the blade. The mess was another part of the apocalypse experience that he detested, as inevitable as it was. 

God, what he wouldn’t give for a shower.

Water had stopped working somewhere along the end of the first week, something he had been expecting but nevertheless didn’t enjoy. It was a concern to everyone still alive, and for those who were brave enough to enter homes and clear them out of their inhabitants to scour the house for water bottles, it meant a better chance at life.

And for those who couldn’t shoulder the terror of breaking into somewhere new and facing the possibility of running face to face with a whole family of the dead, well, there wasn’t much else to be done but raid stores or sit down and wait to die.

He wasn’t afraid to admit that he was too much of a coward to go into houses that were obviously not raided yet. Convenience stores tended to be more vacant than not, at least in his experience. Typically there was only a stray walker here or there shuffling down the medicine aisle or even better, trapped behind the counter. Due to people pillaging the stores earlier on, most of the dead had been wiped out and laid wasting away on the ground, the floor littered with bodies and pieces of walkers that hadn’t made it. Considering there were quite a few less opponents to go against, stores were definitely easier to deal with than an unknown amount of dead in an unfamiliar house. There was no way a whole store could be pillaged so thoroughly when not even half of the population was still alive.

That was one of the main reasons he decided to take the plunge and pillage one of the last places he ever thought he would hit up for the necessities of life, but he didn’t have the energy nor the brain power to be too introspective that afternoon. As it was, slinking his way through the busted doors of the entrance to Walmart provided enough anxiety without the added weight of his thoughts.

Forcing those thoughts to a stop, he passed through the threshold. 

The second the sickly sweet smell of rotted fruit and molding food invaded his nostrils as he made it inside, Lovino eyed the aisles from where he was with a critical eye. The glaringly alarming fact that it seemed like he was completely alone in the store from what he could see as he carefully made his way toward the start of the aisles gave him pause.

He didn’t know why he thought the corporate giant of all places wouldn’t already be ransacked beyond hope. Sure, he had known it would be raided to some degree, but never had he expected it to be so picked clean. It was a smaller store due to the town being more rural than the ones closer to the heart of the state, though he still thought it shouldn’t have been as trashed as it was. The boxes of stale and moldy cereal coupled with what looked like spoiled cans of food spilled down the aisles as he crept down them proved his earlier assumption that this would be easy pretty fucking wrong. Of the three stores he’d visited for food and supplies in the past few weeks, this was the most barren. Even the fucking book section of all places was almost completely empty, what literature that wasn’t torn to shreds on the floor trampled beyond help or simply missing from the shelves. Even the lights above him were a wreck, only about one in five bulbs working. 

The lack of food and literature wasn’t the only disappointment. Displays were overturned everywhere he looked and the silence that hung through the air was like a blanket, thick and suffocating. For once, the sound of gnashing teeth and pained groans would have been preferable over this. The absence of sound never meant anything good. There was always some kind of noise; growling, shuffling sounds out in the street, or more rarely, screams.

The screams were the worst, but this silence was coming up a close second.

Nothing about it was right. Every sense he had warned him that something was wrong, the lack of other survivors or walkers actually making him feel more terrified than he would have felt had he run into another creature, living or otherwise. After surviving for two months in a world turned to shit, he had learned early on to trust his instincts. They had never failed him yet and he liked to believe they never would. So why he went into that godforsaken place against every one of his instincts telling him to turn around and try his hand at another home would forever remain a mystery. It was probably his hunger and thirst driving him though, the primal sense that he would die if he didn’t get some kind of sustenance in his body propelling him to put himself in potentially dangerous situations. The decaying body of a young woman he found sprawled out a little ways away from the aisle he was heading to as he rounded the end of the one he was in only solidified his conclusion that this was a bad idea. But if there was a body here, that meant someone had come in here looking for something, implying that there were possibly more valuables here, and that was good enough for him.

Every step Lovino took toward the aisle the young woman was lying in front of was slow and calculated, his hand clenching and unclenching around the kitchen knife in his grasp in preparation for a confrontation as he crept toward the nonperishable food section only to find it completely stripped down. 

Shit.

The fact that he thought there would be something there he could eat after two months of survivors raiding everywhere was actually slightly concerning. Not only did it look like there was barely anything that could still be consumed after months, but he hadn’t come across any cases of water either. Or any kind of liquid, actually. 

Great. Looks like he would finally be forced into going into one of those houses he avoided at all costs.

“Goddammit.” He muttered under his breath, slinking down the barren and vastly disappointing cereal aisle once more in search of the refreshments aisle. Even more than food, he needed water. His own dusty water bottle had been bone dry for a day and a half so far, and as he felt the comforting weight of everything he owned in the backpack he had unearthed from a closet in his old apartment against his back, Lovino vowed to locate and steal whatever water he could find, be it from another person or otherwise. He had to if he wanted to stay alive.

He had to for Feliciano.

“Fuck!” A voice suddenly spat from a couple aisles down, the gruff voice sending Lovino to his knees faster than he could process the word. Blood pounded in his ears as he strained himself to pick up what was being said, instincts telling him to abandon his Walmart idea and _run._

“Don’t be so loud.” Another voice, smoother than the first, chimed in quieter than the one before. “Just because we cleared out the store doesn’t mean more won’t wander in. Keep your voice down.”

The one with the smoother voice was right, as horrifying as agreeing with a potential lunatic was. People who were loud never made it. At least they never did from what he had seen, and he had seen quite a bit.  
Idly he wondered if that obnoxiously loud blonde in his biochemistry class was still kicking it or not. Not like they were ever friends or anything beyond roommates, but he had been tolerable at least. He was probably long gone by now.

“Shut up, Franny! I wouldn’t be like this if _he_ hadn't taken my fucking Skittles!” The first voice complained. Loudly, might Lovino add. “That was the only pack! I even crawled under that fucking stand full of rotting fruit to grab it!”

“I found them first.” A third voice rang through the air, soft and pleasant to his ears but still masculine enough to notice. Not like he was paying attention to something like that when three possible murderers were only feet away, of course. “I would share with you if you hadn’t been so mean earlier.”

An insulted gasp rang out from who he assumed was the loud man. “Just because I told you that you couldn’t take that cat with us doesn’t mean you can keep food from me!” God, why was this man so loud? “The thing was barely alive, Toni. It wouldn’t have made it anyway.”

The sound of a crinkling bag suddenly rang through the air, crisp and loud. Lovino ventured to guess it was a chip bag or something of the sort. Great; the only food in miles and it was gone while he had to sit mere feet away and listen to it being devoured. 

What a fucking day this was turning out to be.

“You didn’t have to bash it with a crowbar, Gilbert.” The one with the smooth voice scolded.

“Just be glad I didn’t eat it!” A protest was heard from what he assumed to be the third man at that, the one with the soft voice. 

And with that, Lovino decided he wanted nothing to do with these people. Bashing animals to death with crowbars? That wasn’t the worst thing he’d seen or heard, but something about those voices unsettled him on several levels. The way they spoke and acted wasn’t right. It was like they were having a simple argument over homework or what to eat for dinner, not the bludgeoning of another living thing in a world that brought everyone to their knees. Their tones didn’t hold the kind of heavy, humorless drone that he had come to expect from his own voice, the sound something that came from going through things no human should ever have to go through.

Something was off about them and he didn’t intend to stick around to find out what it was.

Mind made up, Lovino turned on his hands and knees started crawling to get out of that fucking place, ignoring the hand marks and ugly squelching sound his hand made against the tile from the leftover residue the walking corpse outside left on him. He moved with as much speed as his exhausted limbs would allow toward the way he came. Food wasn’t worth this. He could just break into the Walgreens down the street and try his hand there.

At least there wouldn’t be any psychopaths roaming around.

“It was suffering!” That loud voice exclaimed, the sound carrying from the aisle and into the few beside it. “It was either kill it or let it suffer! What would you rather have had me do, Anto-” The man suddenly cut himself off, a metallic ringing sound echoing through the store.

Lovino felt his stomach drop, blood running as cold as the grimy tiles beneath his hands and knees at the sound that filled the air. He didn’t have to look to know what the noise came from, the edge of his knife wedged against the side of one of the overturned metal displays. The vibrations reverberating up his arm were enough to let him know just how fucked he was. 

In his haste to escape, he had rammed the side of his knife right into one of the metal rungs.

_Shit, shit, SHIT-_

“Hello?” 

Oh god, this was it. He was going to be beaten to death in an aisle at Walmart. Of all the ways to die, it had to be in a fucking Walmart of all places. What would Feliciano think of him if his existence ended here?  
Who was going to look after Feliciano if he died here?

Before he could even think of how to get himself out of the situation he so elegantly planted himself in, the sound of footsteps echoing up the aisle a few away from the one he was trapped in paralyzing his limbs with fear. With his body frozen to the ground, he could do little but wait for his killers to reveal themselves. 

Never let it be said that he reacted well in times of terror.

Three people came into view as they rounded the edge of the aisle, but that wasn’t what brought Lovino down from his terror long enough to be confused. No, it was how they looked that stumped him. They weren’t healthy; no one in an apocalypse could ever be, but at least they weren’t one of the few survivors he ran by in the second week. They probably hadn’t made it, that seemingly uptight man in the glasses and the woman with long, matted brown hair most likely long gone by now, but he refused to think of them now. If it had been them by some miracle though, he was sure they would beat him to death for stealing their water while they slept.

A subtle movement from one of the men in front of him quickly snapped him from his thoughts.

Instead of looking like they should in an apocalypse, starving and dirty, the trio of strangers in front of him looked well fed. Their thicker limbs and filled out bodies were a stark contrast to his own gangly and unsightly limbs, his pallor skin roughed up and bruised from diving into alleys and through woods. Their clothes were even moderately clean for apocalypse standards, a far cry from his own dirtied black t-shirt and old skinny jeans. His converse sneakers had definitely seen better days too.

The one with the chocolate curls and emerald eyes looked the most tidy out of the three young men standing meters away from him, the silver haired one with the wild eyes and the other with the shoulder length blonde hair and noticeable stubble looking much dirtier than him. He definitely wasn’t clean, some spatters of blood staining his white V-neck shirt along with smudges of dirt along his chest and limbs, but compared to the other two it looked like he had simply fallen down and scrapped a knee while rolling around in dirt instead surviving the end of the world. 

Lovino didn’t know what to make of that.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” The loud one, the one with the hair the color of the moon on a clear night, spoke up. His voice was enough to shake Lovino out of his reverie, the dread slamming into him at full force now that he was forced to face the situation he created for himself. An emotion that looked a lot like suspicion danced through the silver haired man’s brownish eyes, the one working bulb in the aisle bathing him in a soft light that made the orbs appear a deep red.

“A survivor.” The blonde one replied, a strange mix of surprise and suspicion painting his face. 

He could relate, as terrified as he was. If he came across someone looking the way he did at the moment, he would probably make the same expression too. 

“Damn, haven’t seen one of these for at least a week!” The loud one commented, eyeing Lovino up and down in what the Italian assumed was an assessment of his current state. Whatever the man saw in him made his expression darken into a look startlingly similar to deep thought, his crooked crowbar acting as a cane for him while he got his thoughts together. 

“Oui, it’s been about seven days.” The blonde one agreed, also eyeing him up in a similar way to the other one. “That blonde man with the guns and that little girl were the last living ones we saw.” He reminded him, pointing his nail hammer at Gilbert as if it would help the red eyed man remember while he turned his attention back to Lovino. Their gazes were enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand up, not to mention the steady stare he had felt on his face since the moment those three revealed themselves. 

It wasn’t coming from the two that had already spoken, though. No; it came from the one standing to the silver haired man’s left, the man with the chocolate curls and unwavering stare strong enough to make Lovino want to shrink into himself. 

Either that or it was the bloodied bat in his hands that unnerved him. Both were valid reasons. 

“Well, what do we do?” The red eyed one asked after a beat of silence spent staring from each party, glancing between Lovino and the other two he was traveling with. 

“What do you think?” The blonde one hummed, adjusting the backpack strap on his shoulder as he spoke. A _full_ backpack, Lovino realized with a sour look. “We either kill him or knock him out and take his things. We can’t just leave him here, he’ll try to follow us and attack us while we sleep.”

Well, blondie wasn’t wrong. If these people so much as turned their backs to him, he knew he would take a swipe at them and make a grab for their backpacks before bolting. 

Terror be damned; he needed supplies.

“No.” The one with the soft voice chimed in, the authority in his voice surprising Lovino for a moment. “We aren’t doing anything like that. If we did, it would make us worse than those things outside.” He insisted, not waiting for a reply before turning his attention back to the Italian in front of him, moving past his two friends to come closer.

Each step the emerald eyed man took toward him caused him to tense up more and more, that deep and unwavering stare rooting him in place as his nerves screamed at him to _run._ The two others behind him watched with wide eyes, their grips on their weapons tensing as this stranger crouched a foot or two in front of him, his stare never wavering as the silence stretched on.

With him being this close, Lovino could pick out the details of his face. A handsomely cut jaw housed a pair of average looking lips, chapped and in serious need of a meeting with a stick of chapstick but no less becoming. The hint of dimples he saw at the corners of his mouth told Lovino that this man looked like he used to smile a lot before the world went to shit, something that reminded him of his brother. What didn’t make him think of Feliciano however was the light shade of stubble peppering the man’s jawline, the hair barely visible from far away but detectable from this close up, as if he hadn’t shaved for a day or two or simply did it with the edge of a dull knife. His stubble was the same shade as his hair, those slightly matted and greasy locks chocolate in color and bouncy in volume.

The thing that really caught his attention wasn’t his jawline or his lips or even his nose, as infuriatingly good looking as they were though. 

No, the part of him that ensnared him were his eyes. 

Those soft looking orbs framed by long dark lashes were something he hadn’t seen before. Sure, he had seen plenty of green eyes in his short nineteen years of life- hell, his own hazel-borderline-green ones were seen more often in the mirror than not- but the shade of emerald staring into his own weren’t like anything he had encountered before.

It wasn’t just their color that he found mesmerizing, the shade more reminiscent of emeralds resting in a meadow of fresh grass than anything else, but what he felt lay behind them. There was a sort of heaviness pooling in their depths that he knew came from surviving through true horror but somehow he still managed to look innocent, like the weight of what he had seen and been through didn’t weigh as heavily on his shoulders. 

In fact, his whole posture screamed innocent, and Lovino just didn’t know how to deal with that. It had been too long since he had seen it, and in this hellhole of a world, the innocent looking ones more often than not either ended up dead or turned out to be the worst monsters out there. 

“W-what...” Lovino croaked after a minute of staring, limbs itching to scramble away from this- this _threat._ “What do you want?” He demanded, cursing the hitch in his voice that came from not being used enough. Of all the times to sound like a prepubescent teenager, now was not the time. 

The green eyed man simply stared as he spoke, not moving a muscle as the other two behind him watched with serious expressions, their eyes locked on the Italian’s trembling hand.

Oh, right. His knife.

Relief flooded his being at the realization, the lead weighing down his limbs letting up slightly as courage took their place. He was armed while the man in front of him was not, his bat abandoned where he had been standing earlier. “I _said,_ ” Lovino hissed, “What do you want?” Silence stretched on until a subtle movement of the man in front of him making a move to come closer startled him into action, brandishing the knife in front of him in a knee jerk reaction as if it would protect him from the curly haired stranger glancing between the weapon and him. Concern momentarily painted the man’s face for a few seconds before he seemingly came to a decision, making a silent point in staying right where he was. 

“Hey-” The silver haired one started, tensing as the knife came into play only to be shushed by the blonde one, neither looking pleased about the turn of events.

Lovino couldn’t blame him; he would be pretty concerned if someone was waving a knife at him like was doing to the silver haired man’s friend, but it didn’t seem like the stranger minded the blade being pointed at him, which was more worrying than anything Lovino had encountered that day. 

What kind of person wasn’t afraid of having a knife brandished in their face?

Before he could formulate an escape plan, the sound of something hitting the floor beside him halted every thought he had, every muscle in his body flinching at the noise. Sending a cautious glance to his side, reluctant to take his eyes off the man in front of him, a familiar neon green wrapper caught his attention.

What…?

“You look like you’re hungry.” Was the only explanation he got from the green eyed man as he pushed himself to his feet with a grunt, the stains marring his white t-shirt more visible than ever now that he was so close. “Eat them, okay?” With a meaningful look to the half eaten bag of Skittles he had tossed to Lovino’s side, he took a few steps back as if expecting the man in front of him to lash out, leaving behind a bewildered Lovino in his wake.

Never had another living creature during this disaster offered him any kind of sustenance despite his few encounters with the more hospitable survivors. The apocalypse changed people, the need for manners and sharing all but gone out the window as soon as people began to eat one another. It was everyone for themselves out there.

So the fact that this man, this _stranger_ just offered him what looked like the only food he had managed to find, was unfathomable. It didn’t make sense no matter how he looked at it, but he couldn’t deny the loud rumble that came from his stomach despite the fear still coursing through his veins. 

“Oh, so you give the twink the Skittles and not me?” The red eyed one complained now that his friend was a good distance away from the knife in Lovino’s hand.

It had been weeks since he had heard someone else’ voice- someone alive that wasn’t screaming, at least- but even with his lack of practice with others, Lovino pushed his fear to the side and struggled to get himself to his feet, snarling at the red eyed asshole as the familiar enabling sensation of irritation swept through his bruised and battered body in place of terror. If he allowed himself to be pushed around and teased like this without standing up for himself then he would be made a target, his apparent weakness putting him in more danger. “The fuck you think you’re calling a twink, you albino asshole?” He hissed, not missing the surprise paint all three of their faces. 

A beat of silence went by before Lovino realized that opening his big mouth and cussing out one of the men who looked like he’d seen his fair share of battles probably wasn’t a good idea. Of all the things he thought he would die from out here, being bludgeoned with a crowbar by some albino freak in Walmart because he couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut wasn’t one of them.

“Oh? Not bad.” The blonde one appraised him with his eyes, the one with the chocolate curls that had given him the candy looking more intrigued with him than before. The staring was uncomfortable but at least they weren’t trying to rip his throat out and hang his esophagus over one of the display stands.

The loud mouthed one didn’t seem to like the sudden interest his friends were taking in Lovino though, crossing his arms and grumbling under his breath as he glared at the Italian with blatant mistrust written all over his face. “Sure, not bad for a filthy twink.” The curly haired man frowned at his friend for that. 

“Now isn’t the time to be acting like this, Gilbert.” The one with the Spanish accent scolded him.

So the loud mouthed one’s name was Gilbert? The name fit the asshole, surprisingly, but he wasn’t going to stick around for a circle of get-to-know-you games when there was the possibility of a horde of walkers forming outside as they spoke. 

“You know what?” Lovino interrupted the impending argument he could feel coming, feigning confidence as he made a show of patting down the rags he called clothes and wiping his still dirtied blade off on the side of his pants. What was another stain added to the collection, anyway? “I don’t have time for this. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to leave.” And with that, he made one of the worst decisions that day; he turned his back on the three and began walking away, passing the bag of Skittles with a secret side glance. Despite how hungry he was, he wouldn’t take the Skittles. There was no way he could let the trio see how weak he was. 

It would only make him a target. 

“Wait!” 

That single word rang out with such clarity that Lovino could do little more than tense up, wary of a walker hearing and stumbling inside. “What?” He snapped, whirling around to face the man who called out to him. 

Clearly not having expected Lovino to actually listen to him, the green eyed man’s expression faltered. “Where are you going?” 

The question admittedly threw Lovino off momentarily but he made sure not to show it. Were they trying to figure out where he was going so they could follow him and steal his things? Well, the joke was on them. There wasn’t anywhere he could call home; there hadn’t been for upwards of seven weeks. “Away from here.” He replied tersely, his answer apparently not settling well with the man becoming steadily more distressed the longer they spoke. 

“But _where?_ Do you have some place to go back to? Will you be safe?” The stranger pressed.

Oh, so he had been right. They were just looking for another poor victim to follow, kill, and steal from.

“Why the fuck does it matter so much?” Lovino spat, fed up with this game of twenty questions. To be honest, as much as he tried not to let it show on his face, he didn’t have anywhere to go back to. His apartment was miles away from where he was now. 

“Stay with us.” Came the words spoken with such clarity and honesty that Lovino found it hard to breathe for a second. If he hadn’t been surprised earlier by how genuine this man seemed to be, he was shocked now. Of course, that didn’t mean the stranger couldn’t be plotting his downfall as they spoke, but there was something about him that suggested he didn’t have a lying bone in his body.  
Lovino didn’t know how he came to that conclusion and refused to look into it too deeply. 

“ _Antonio,_ ” Gilbert said lowly, his eyes flashing in warning as he stared at his friend. “We don’t have enough food or water to take in someone else.”

“I’ll share my food, then.” The green eyed man- no, Antonio replied as though giving up half of his meager rations wasn’t a big deal. He watched the man send a pointed but fleeting glance to the bag of Skittles still by Lovino’s feet, a look that Gilbert didn’t miss.

“You barely have enough to stay alive as it is.” Gilbert argued, staring at Antonio with a look that screamed of displeasure. “For the last time, we don’t have enough resources to take in strays, Antonio.”

“Then I’ll go on more supply runs.” Antonio replied, obviously not about to budge on his decision. 

“I love how you’re talking about this like I’m actually going with you.” Lovino interrupted, three eyes instantly fixated on him as soon as he spoke, one looking more distressed than the other two. Knowing at least one of the three barbarians would probably stick up for him should he say something he shouldn’t gave him a little too much courage. 

“But-“ 

“I don’t know any of you and even if I did, I don’t trust you.” He interrupted, not afraid of the people in front of him as much as he had been before. If they were going to kill him they would have done it already… right? Or maybe his earlier assumption of being trailed caught by surprise was true. Either way, he wasn’t going to let them tell him what to do or where to go.

“Well I can fix that!” Antonio chirped, jumping at the chance to convince Lovino to come with them, his voice much too hopeful for the shitty situation they were all stuck right in the middle of. “I’m Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” He introduced himself, offering the Italian a tiny smile that quite literally made Lovino’s heart pound in his chest for more than one reason. It was nothing more than a gentle upturn of lips, hardly a grin by any standard, but effective all the same.

How anyone could find it within themselves to smile when the possibility of half of the population of Maine gathering outside and trying to eat them weighed down on them all, Lovino couldn’t even begin to fathom. His smile was like a beacon, drawing in broken and miserable souls to bathe in his light. 

Jesus Christ, it had been too long since he had seen someone smile with good intentions. 

Even so, he couldn’t help but notice how Antonio didn’t take a step closer and offer his hand to shake when he introduced himself though, something it seemed like he was itching to do if the glances to their hands was any indication.

That was the right choice. Had the other held his hand out, there was a strong possibility that Lovino would have taken a finger clean off with his knife, grin or not. 

The apocalypse wasn’t doing anything for his manners.

“I don’t care.” Lovino frowned, his dismissal going unheard as Antonio glanced over his shoulder to his other two friends with imploring eyes, urging them to offer up their names as well with that damn smile of his.

“…Name’s Gilbert Beilschmidt.” Gilbert grumbled reluctantly, still unhappy about the introductions. 

Good, at least he wasn’t the only one. 

“Francis Bonnefoy.” The blonde one spoke up after Gilbert had, obviously more accepting of the fact that their curly haired friend seemed to want to initiate him into their group. Lovino wasn’t happy about it at all of course, but realistically, what choice did he have? He didn’t even know where he was going to sleep that night, and if going with them meant they wouldn’t hunt him down once he left and tried to steal his sparse belongings, then he supposed his chances of getting out of this alone were slim at best. 

“Pretending I care what your names are,” Lovino began, taking another step back from the trio in front of him. “Why do you think I’d go with you?” He demanded, gracing them all with a glower when he saw Gilbert sneer at him. That asshole.

“Because we can protect you,” Antonio immediately offered, giving him a quick once over as he no doubt took in his disheveled and absolutely filthy appearance. “We can provide food for you,” He continued, giving Lovino a look that he hadn't seen since this whole shit storm started. A look of _honesty._ “And we can give you a home with us.”

Hiding the way those words sucked the breath from his lungs, Lovino put more force behind his glower until the hopeful look in Antonio’s eyes began to falter. Good. What he was saying was complete bullshit. Give him a home? What was this man on that made him think it was okay to go throwing those kind of words around? How dare he. 

“I don’t need protection.” Lovino snarled at the Spaniard, gripping the knife in his hand tighter as if to prove his point. He had made it fine by himself up until now; he didn’t need these barbarians to coddle him. 

“But you _do_ need food and somewhere to stay.” The Spaniard immediately brightened up when Lovino didn’t correct him, the hope from earlier returning to those breathtaking eyes. 

Goddammit. He was right. 

Even if he made it out of the Walmart parking lot, who was to say he wouldn't be gunned down by one of the few survivors in possession of a gun or one of the walkers lingering outside or even the three standing in front of him? There was no guarantee he would even make it to tomorrow alive, but with these three… he had a one in four chance of surviving. That was much better than just roughing it on his own no matter how much he didn't trust these guys. They also had food and water, something he had been severely lacking for the past month toughing it out by himself. 

Essentially, he was trapped. Only an idiot would give up the promise of sustenance and shelter in a world like the one they were fighting to live in, regardless of how sketchy the people the proposal came from.

In the end, he supposed he really didn't have a choice.


	2. Relocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino follows the strange trio of survivors and wonders how they've managed to survive with the constant danger they put themselves in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is up! Sorry it took so long, work takes a lot out of me kflsjf  
> I'm probably going to edit this chapter later to fix mistakes.

Whatever Lovino had been expecting to see when he agreed to leave Walmart with the trio and go to their base definitely defied his expectations. What he thought would be a safe house of some kind ended up being nothing but an old apartment building on the sparsely populated side of town, a decrepit looking thing with graffiti spattered across the front like they were in the city instead of rural Maine. The art sprayed on the building looked fresh, the words ‘Dead Inside’ splattered in black across the brick near the entrance being the only new looking addition to the place. It looked like nothing even close to the safe haven Antonio had described in his haste to get him to agree to join them. What he was looking at seemed to be more of a death trap than anything, definitely not a safe house strong enough to keep the dead out if a group of them decided to crowd the building. 

There wasn’t anywhere else he could go other than here however, no matter how unsafe it looked. It was either this or resorting to hiding away in the woods or some other equally unsafe place until he could make his way to the friend’s house that Feliciano was staying at. Given those two options, he concluded that following these three was better than facing certain starvation in the woods or the dangers of traveling alone. Right now, staying here was the best decision he could make. It wouldn't be forever; just until he could figure out his next course of action.

Gilbert must have noticed his staring because he gave a snort and shoved Lovino’s shoulder, a move he didn’t appreciate in the slightest. The fucking albino asshole wasn’t gentle with his shoving. “It doesn’t look like much, but this is home.” The red eyed man murmured as he came up on his left, breath tickling his ear as he eyed the building from where they had their backs pressed against the side of what used to be a bank across the street. 

The apartment was only two stories high, not something uncommon given where they were, but the location wasn’t what he expected. There weren’t many other buildings or houses around, only a sparse few here and there before it started getting a little more packed down the street, the top of houses and businesses meeting his eyes if he squinted. The amount of trees made up for the lack of houses, their thick trunks revealing their age and their foliage covering a fair amount of the little town.

“It looks like shit.” Lovino scoffed quietly. If he was being honest, he kind of expected some kind of underground dungeon or dumpster-turned-hideout, so this wasn’t as bad as it could be. Even so, he gripped his knife and prepared for a fight as he watched Gilbert roll his eyes and round the side of the run down bank building to scope out the area before waving them over. With steps as silent as falling snow, the three of them made their way to Gilbert one by one and kept a close eye out for strays that could pose a threat. None seemed to be present however, much to his relief. 

The street was mostly clear, the few walkers ambling about near two broken down cars a ways away in what he figured was the parking lot for whatever little store was down the street, too far away to detect them if they moved quickly and silently, which they did. That didn’t stop Antonio from staring at him the entire time, the Spaniard obviously not as comfortable with the state of the street as Lovino was.  
He quickly shook off the odd feeling being stared at gave him.

Lovino half expected them to go through the front door despite it being barred off with patio chairs pushed up against the glass from the inside, figuring the sensible approach to getting inside would be the way to go. He was instantly proven wrong when instead of going through the door like a normal person Gilbert threw himself at the ancient looking tree right beside what he assumed was their apartment, clambering up the trunk and branches as if it was the easiest feat in the world. 

“You get into your apartment by climbing a fucking _tree?_ ” Lovino asked incredulously, glancing to the barred door like it would give him some kind of answer. “Isn’t that kind of, you know, dangerous?” How had these idiots been going up and down this tree for so long without hurting themselves?

“Everything is dangerous now.” Francis quipped quietly, following him and Antonio to stand as close to the tree as he could.

The emerald eyed man nodded in agreement. “One of the perks of living all the way out in the middle of nowhere is the amount of trees. Having so many around makes it easier to learn how to climb them so no, not really.” Antonio whispered as they all watched the German trapeze his way up the thick trunk and over to their apartment window, easily dislodging himself and making the relatively short leap from the Oak into their second story room without a hitch. “It also lets us avoid the stairwell.”

No one offered to tell him what was in the stairwell and Lovino didn’t ask. It wasn’t hard to figure out.

“Is that tree the only way into the apartment?” He found himself asking, hearing a few muffled clanking sounds as Gilbert set down his crowbar inside and poked his head out the window to see what was going on.  


“Technically we can go through the parking lot but, well…” Antonio rubbed the back of his head with the hand that wasn’t holding his beat up bat. “We would have to get through a few walkers first.”

The look on his face told Lovino that the parking lot was definitely not somewhere he wanted to be. 

“You go next.” Antonio instructed as he looked pointedly at the tree, tone sounding more like a plea of sorts than an order but making Lovino bristle all the same as he changed the subject. Being told what to do never went over well with him no matter how many talks he had been given growing up that authority was just a part of life and that there was nothing he could do about it. The apocalypse wasn’t the time to start testing the patience of the group that was taking him in no matter how much he resented it so he kept his mouth shut and only glared at Antonio a little bit before turning his gaze back to the tree. Up close it was much more daunting than it seemed back at the bank.

Not that he was afraid of climbing it. Of course not.

Misreading his hesitation as fear, Antonio offered him a gentle pat on the shoulder that wasn’t appreciated as much as the Spaniard probably thought it was. “I’ll catch you if you fall, don’t worry.” He offered, giving Lovino’s boney shoulder one more pat before stepping back and holding his hands up as though he were initiating some kind of trust fall.

“Hurry up, we don’t have a lot of time.” Francis cut in as he stared down the road at the group of walking corpses a little further down, lingering near what looked like what was left of a tiny souvenir shop of sorts. Lovino had to bite back a growl at the command.

If there was one thing he hated more than being told what to do, it was being rushed. 

“I’m working on it, Jesus Christ.” He grumbled before grabbing onto the nearest branch and hauling himself up. For as slight as he seemed next to the three escorting him to their base, he wasn’t weak. Before the end of the world messed with his sleeping schedule and diet, he had possessed the sort of body a swimmer would have. Lean with corded muscle, nothing too obvious, with a slight build that didn’t exactly scream power but didn’t make him look weak either. That was before this happened. Now he looked more like a starving teen, hair dirtier than ever and a few of his ribs showing from lack of food. Thank god he had at least enough strength left in his exhausted arms to haul himself up those few branches.

Speaking of the tree, had the branches always been this thin? Good lord, one of them was going to fall climbing up this disaster of a tree one day and break their legs landing. Not like it would be his fault or the worst way to die in a world like this but the idea almost upset him.

Almost.

Lovino didn’t notice he had stopped climbing halfway up until a soft voice sounded from a few feet under him. 

“Keep going, I got you.” Antonio called to him, urging him to keep going as Francis became more and more stressed down on the ground, his hand gripping his hammer tightly. The way the Spaniard spoke made it sound like he was confident in his apparent ability to catch him should he fall seven or eight feet, and as ridiculous as that belief was, Lovino heeded his urges and fumbled his way up the rest of the old Oak tree to the window where Gilbert was reaching for him, embarrassingly out of breath and trembling by the time he reached the top.

“Drop me and I will end you.” Lovino hissed as Gilbert grabbed his arms and hauled him across those few feet between the window and the tree, a breath of relief escaping between his lips as he was tugged onto the ledge and pushed into the room.

“Just shut up and get inside.” Gilbert grumbled as he turned back to the window to presumably help his other two friends get inside safely. 

He barely had enough time to catch his footing and take in his surroundings before the sound of two other pairs of feet landing in the room with him jarred him from his thoughts. Damn, they had gotten up that tree much faster than he had, and no matter how much he tried to reason with himself that it was because they were used to doing this, it still hurt his pride. 

But that aside, he focused on looking around the room as everyone gathered their bearings.

The first thing Lovino noticed upon entering the apartment was that the inside was much bigger than it looked from the outside, what sparse furniture they had pushed up against the front door in a makeshift barricade aside from a beaten looking tiny couch in the middle of the room.

He didn’t have to ask what they were trying to keep out.

Without much furniture to take up the room, the flat looked much bigger than he knew it actually was. The living room led to a little kitchenette while a hallway off to the left presumably led to a bathroom and a bedroom or two, the space quite bigger than he would expect of a two story apartment building that was on its last leg. Whoever owned it before certainly had an affinity for books and the like, the walls covered with bookshelves stuffed to the brim with decaying classics and more recent works. Cans of food and empty water bottles littered the floor, the universal sign of survivors, some opened and picked clean while others were still untouched and piled off to the side beside the little beaten up couch. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason for the way the place looked. Not that it seemed looked after properly but hey, who was going to dedicate time to interior design when there were roughly 7 billion walking corpses outside? 

Still, the books stuffed into the bookshelf were old, their aging paper giving the apartment a distinct scent that he easily picked up on. Edgar Allen Poe, Shakespeare, and other classic authors lined the shelves, their pages slightly yellowed and obviously loved. They were nothing like the shredded paperbacks he had seen at Walmart, and part of him wondered if any of the three he was traveling with made the effort to pick up any books from raids they had been on. A few of them looked newer than their counterparts, a detail he didn’t fail to notice as he raked his eyes over some of the copies he read a long time ago. A bong shoved in between a copy of _Oedipus_ and _Macbeth_ caught Lovino’s eye as he scanned the rest of the shelf, immediately glancing over at Gilbert who had the decency to smirk at him as he watched the Italian give the apartment a quick appraisal. 

“What? I like to enjoy myself from time to time.” He defended himself once he saw how the Italian’s eyes were zeroed in on the bong. “There’s nothing like being able to get out of your head for a bit. Although…” The amused look slipped as he turned his head to stare out the window they had crawled in through. “I don’t think I need it anymore. Now it’s more of a ‘try not to lose my head’ kind of thing.” He tried to joke, his attempt crashing and burning as Francis and Antonio exchanged exasperated looks from where they were standing by the window, weapons still in hand. 

“How did you guys find this place?” Lovino asked to diffuse the situation, kicking one of the empty cans on the ground out of his way as he took everything in and ignored the bookshelf for the time being.  


“It was a pretty easy find considering this is our apartment.” Gilbert grunted when he caught onto the out the Italian was giving him, propping his crowbar up against the couch and plopping down on the floor against the furniture with as little grace as Lovino would expect from him before beginning to pull out what he had managed to pillage from Walmart. A roll of duct tape, an unsatisfyingly small bottle of Gatorade, a pack of batteries, and a few granola bars were the exciting haul. 

“We bought it right when we started attending university.” Antonio added in a gentler manner as Gilbert began to stack the food with the other cans beside the couch, the slight accent in his voice giving his words a softer impact than the harsher one Gilbert possessed. As the Spaniard spoke, Lovino watched him set his bat down against the wall under the window, not missing how Francis still kept a firm grip on his hammer.

“When was that?” Lovino found himself asking as he set his bag down on the ground without care if it dirtied the floor or not before he followed and sat down cross legged across from Francis and Antonio, who were still standing. Hell, his bag was probably an improvement to this disaster of an apartment. It wasn’t as if he really cared about the answer despite how his question made him sound; his mouth had moved without his permission. Just to reassure himself that the trio in the room with him understood that he didn’t give a shit, he made sure to put the dirtiest side of his backpack on the floor.

“Ah, about… two years? I think it’s been two years.” Antonio answered easily when Francis nodded in confirmation, the emerald eyed man perking up when it seemed like Lovino was actually interested in what he was saying. Judging from what he was saying, the Italian came to the conclusion that they were all roughly around the same age, give or take a year or two. It was a pretty useless fact to notice when age was the last thing any of them needed to be worrying about but he filed that information away for later anyway.

“It _has_ been two years. Remember when that fucking asshole next door came over the day we moved in and gave us a guideline of what we were and weren’t allowed to do? Damn asshole. Thank god he got evicted.” Gilbert added, snorting humorously at the memory. “It was right before I got accepted into college. We went out drinking that night, remember?”

Francis nodded, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. “You think I would forget you getting us banned from my favorite bar by jumping up on the counter and challenging everyone in the room to fight you?”  


Gilbert smirked at the reminder, pausing his sorting and crossing his arms. “I would have won if Antonio hadn’t pulled me off the counter-“

“Where are the rest of the people that live here?” Lovino interrupted, his head pounding from the benign conversation happening in front of him. Not only had he not been subjected to the sound of people arguing in over two months, but the sound factor was beginning to make him antsy. If they got too much louder there was sure to be trouble. If walkers heard them and came stumbling up to their apartment and broke in, he was booking it out of there. 

Almost immediately the trio shut up, Gilbert sharply turning his attention back to counting supplies while Francis glanced at Antonio before turning his somber expression to Lovino. With them being so quiet, the lack of noise coming from the complex was more pronounced. Not a single sound met his ears other than the creaks and groans that came from the old building as he waited for the three to get their shit together and answer him. “…They’re gone.” The blonde replied after a moment, voice even and controlled as Antonio fiddled with his hands beside him, his emerald gaze directed to the wall off to his left. 

“ _Gone?_ ” Lovino repeated in disbelief. “The whole complex is empty?” 

The three men in front of him looked pained at the question but didn’t offer any other explanation other than an affirmative nod From Francis. 

“Are you sure?” Lovino pressed, not liking the sudden tension in the air. Was there a room where they shoved all the walkers in and just let them fester there or something? It wasn’t a totally farfetched idea given the world they were living in, as morbid as it sounded, and he didn’t receive get any reassurances that would persuade him to think otherwise so what other kind of conclusion was he supposed to come to?  


“Pretty fucking sure.” Gilbert grunted, finally looking up from his supplies and catching him in a calculating stare.

“If I wake up in the middle of the night to find some fucking farmer trying to eat my face I swear to-“

“There isn’t anyone or anything in this complex aside from us.” Gilbert interrupted, voice heavy and final in a way that discouraged any kind of argument.

Lovino despised that kind of tone. “How are you so sure? Couldn’t someone just wander in through one of the windows to raid their old home?”

“We thought of that already.” Gilbert frowned, face hardening into something Lovino honestly found a little unsettling. “That’s why I spray painted that warning on the side of the building. No one in their right mind would come in after reading that there are walkers in here and so far no one has.” He paused. “The people who lived here before can’t come back even if they wanted to anyway.”

Well shit. That certainly didn’t clear up anything. “What do you mean they _can’t?_ ” He demanded, the possibility that there could be a walker room in one of the apartments starting to look more and more realistic. 

“They can’t.” Gilbert repeated with a shrug, voice harder than before. 

“Wh-“

“They’re dead.” Antonio spoke up, cutting Lovino off abruptly as he focused on him instead of the wall. The way he said it sent chills down his spine, like was simply stating the weather or something equally trivial rather than the brutal slaughtering of upwards of 10 families. 

“They’re walkers?” He asked for clarification, watching with a sinking feeling in his gut as Francis and Gilbert exchanged a glance before cutting Antonio off before he could say anything else.

“No. They’re dead, okay? They’re not coming back, we made sure of it.” Gilbert snapped at him, the implication that they had gone through the whole complex and assassinated people either living or dead slapping Lovino in the face and making his stomach churn. 

“…Oh.” There wasn’t much else he could say to that. 

A minute or two of tense silence went by as he watched the trio fight their demons that resurfaced, the lack of noise in the room getting under his skin in a way that made him feel like he was in danger despite the vacant complex. Learning that this place was free of walkers should have made him relieved but all it did was make him feel ill. Not to mention Francis was still holding his hammer, the rude shit. 

“I can uh… I can show you around the apartment if you want. There isn’t much to see other than our bedrooms since the shower doesn’t work anymore.” Antonio offered to shatter the silence, voice and expression completely sincere as he took the hint that Lovino didn’t want to discuss anything about the lack of people in the complex anymore.

Lovino immediately shook his head, too disturbed at the moment to want to be with any of them alone. 

“I’d rather not.” He replied, refusing to feel guilty when Antonio’s expression fell in response. There was no reason for him to be anything but grateful for the silence that followed. “It’s not like I’m going to be here for much longer anyway.” He added as an afterthought, ignoring the looks he got from the room’s other three occupants, their eyes a little clearer now that they had a distraction from whatever was going on in their heads. It was likely that the memories had just been pushed aside for another time though, not that he particularly cared how they dealt with the guilt. 

It was their own business and he didn’t want any part of it. These three were just strangers to him. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Huh?” Antonio asked dumbly. “What do you mean? Where will you go?”

“We’ve been over this already. I just… I can’t stay here.” _I have to go after my brother,_ Lovino thought to himself. The longer he stayed there the longer Feliciano was in danger and there was no way in hell he was bringing him back here to live with three savages.

“You keep saying that.” Francis observed, calmly leaving Antonio’s side as he walked around the silver haired man and finally set his hammer down with the German’s crowbar to seat himself on the sofa, the two friends exchanging a look before turning their attention back to him. They both looked more worn down than they had two minutes ago, the effects their earlier discussion had on them drawing obvious stress lines on their faces.

Antonio actually had the balls to look upset when he learned that he apparently wasn’t staying. “But why? Why can’t you stay here with us?” 

Shit, this guy just couldn’t let a conversation die, could he? “It doesn’t matter.” Lovino forced out between gritted teeth, hand immediately twitching to his side where he kept his knife when Antonio shuffled closer and reached out for an unopened can off to his left, finally seating himself in a cross legged position on the floor across from him. 

“It _does_ matter. I can’t let you go out there alone until I know why you’re so eager to leave.” Antonio replied easily, still visibly put out by the fact that Lovino was going to leave eventually as he struggled to open the can of peas he had in his hands. 

“So I’m a prisoner now, is that it?” Lovino growled, gripping his knife tighter at the thought. What was this guy’s problem? “Well, whatever. I’ll just strangle you in your sleep and make my escape. It shouldn’t be too hard considering this whole complex was apparently ‘cleared out.’” A surprised sort of sound came from Antonio’s mouth once that was out in the open, Gilbert looking like he was torn between being apprehensive and offended that his friend was threatened while Francis just looked disapproving. 

Speaking rashly had always been one of his poorer habits.

“You’re not a prisoner.” Antonio denied.

“You will be one if you hurt Antonio though.” Gilbert added, mouth pulled into a tight frown. Lovino just rolled his eyes at the display of overprotection, keeping his eyes on the tan hands still struggling to open that damn can.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll escape and then strangle him again.” 

“If you’re going to kill me then do I at least get to know your name?” Antonio asked evenly as he went about opening the can of peas with a little pocket knife he whipped out of his back jeans pocket. The fact that he brought that out after struggling so much to open the can in the first place without it was idiotic, like he had only just remembered he had it. His blatant lack of fear of Lovino’s very real threat didn’t sit well with the Italian, pissing him off more than anything else as he watched him struggle with growing agitation. Why had he agreed to come with these three again?

Oh yeah. The promise of food and water, two things he desperately needed. 

Dammit. 

“No.” Antonio frowned at the response. 

“Then I’m just going to guess until I get it right.” The stubborn Spaniard replied, using the lid of the can to scoop up some peas and plop them in his mouth before pushing the mostly full can toward Lovino as if to prove he hadn’t been lying about sharing his food with him. Apparently the threat of being strangled in his sleep wasn’t enough to scare him into submission.

Lovino didn’t know why he thought it would.

“Is your name Italian?” 

It was mildly disturbing how these three could go from discussing chopping down people who were possibly still living to asking such lighthearted and innocent questions. “Why would you think that?” Lovino asked, deciding to play along as he crossed his arms and scrutinized the peas. They probably weren’t poisoned because Antonio had eaten them and was still very much alive in front of him but he was going to wait a few more seconds just to make sure.

There was no such thing as being too careful these days.

“Your accent sounds Italian.” Antonio shrugged as he made a swiping motion with his hand to get him to eat the peas. “So is your name Alfonso?”

“No.”

“Carlos?”

“No.”

“Ignacio?”

“No.”

“This isn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be.” Antonio sighed, running a hand back through his messy curls like thinking of names was the most difficult thing he had ever done. “How am I supposed to learn anything about you if you won’t even tell me your name?” 

Lovino frowned at that. “Because I just met you and more importantly, there isn’t anything to know.” More like there wasn’t anything he was ever going to tell them, but he didn’t say that. 

“All I’m asking for is your name.” Antonio clarified softly, suddenly looking like he was picking up on his obvious reluctance. 

Lovino didn’t like that look. 

“You really shouldn’t be worrying about stupid shit like this. There are more important things to concern yourself with. Like surviving, for example.” He told the Spaniard, crossing his arms in a vain attempt at calming himself. All of this pushing was really getting to him despite him trying his best to keep his panic at bay. It was too much too soon, the fact that he’d known these people for less than an hour and they were already trying to drag information out of him, no matter how miniscule, making him immensely uncomfortable. 

“That’s all we’ve been doing.” Antonio responded after a moment, eyeing the arms Lovino had wrapped around himself with blatant curiosity and even an inkling of understanding. “Learning about you would be a nice change of pace.” He shrugged. “So is your name Alejandro?”

The thought of just walking into another room to escape the emerald eyed man crossed his mind a few times but was ignored. He had no doubt that Antonio would follow him and pester him until he got what he wanted. He seemed like that kind of person. “No.” Lovino denied, tightening the arms he had wrapped around himself to give himself a boost of confidence. 

“Luca?”

Lovino shook his head.

“Mario?” Gilbert chimed in, pausing his sorting to give the Italian a shit eating grin that Lovino would give anything to wipe off his face. The brooding expression from earlier was much more favorable than this.  


“Luigi?” Francis offered before Lovino could even answer, speaking up for the first time in what felt like quite a while. It was surprising to hear their voices after what happened earlier, the weight of what happened in the other apartments forcing the two men into silence. Whatever he and Gilbert had going on in their heads, whether it was memories of clearing out the complex or their distrust of him, he didn’t care. The fact that they could push all of that aside so quickly and tease him, someone they had just met an hour ago, was an uncomfortable feeling.

He went along with it though, a tingling sense of apprehension crawling up his spine at the thought of not refusing to comply with anything these guys had in mind. It wasn’t that they came off as total psychopaths; it was the way they pushed things down and switched their moods so quickly that bothered him.

Lovino sighed in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache he could feel forming as he heard Gilbert snicker. His attempt to comfort himself earlier didn’t work, his pulse fluttering in his veins in nervousness underneath his agitation. “You know what? We’re done playing this game. I’m done.” He grunted, pushing himself to his feet and turning to leave the room before a disappointed noise met his ears.

“So you’re really not gonna tell me?” Antonio pleaded, eyes big and disappointed as Lovino stared down at him and the can of peas. 

“Correct. I’m not telling you.” Lovino replied, leaning down to swipe the peas into his hands as he resumed making his way over to the hallway, shoveling peas into his mouth as he did so. It was a useless attempt to not act like he had been starving so he didn’t concern himself with eating politely, simply shoveling the food down his throat with lightly trembling hands as fast as he could as he thought. It didn’t really matter if they knew his name or not but he felt like it would be easier to leave if they didn’t know. Names held power over people, an inescapable sense of familiarity being made when people exchanged names. Everything was always easier if everyone stayed ignorant of one another. If no one knew his name, he was safe. Even if he knew theirs, they didn’t know his and that was what mattered. It always had been and it always would be easier to just stay strangers, especially in the world they lived in.

Besides, it wasn’t like he was going to stay long enough for it to really matter. 

Once it was dark, he was as good as gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand there was chapter two! Sorry it was so short!  
> Let me know if you catch any mistakes, I tend to not catch my own mistakes pfft.


	3. In the Dead of Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some plans need a little bit of tweaking before they're ready to be carried out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swore to myself I would update earlier but work ended up taking up a ton of my time so sorry about that.  
> Again, if you see any mistakes, please let me know!

Lovino waited until the moon was high enough in the sky to shroud the apartment in shadows before slipping off of the mattress Antonio had insisted he take earlier. The soft rays of light filtering in from the slits in the curtains provided just enough illumination for him to see where he was going as he carefully stood on the wooden floor, toes cold and eyes wide open. For as old of a building as the apartment complex was, he was mildly surprised the floorboards didn’t creak too loudly when he took a few steps forward and allowed himself one last look around the room he had been given free rein to that night. Even in the black of night it looked well loved, the off white walls mostly bare except for a few pictures hanging on the wall near the bed. It was almost too dark to see them properly, but Antonio was definitely in them. 

As infuriating as it was, as infuriating as _he_ was, his smile was hard to miss.

With that discovery, Lovino came to the conclusion that this was definitely the Spaniard’s room he had been offered. Antonio never explicitly said that this was in fact his room when he insisted he sleep here, but he didn’t need to. Everything in it screamed ‘Antonio’, the lively colors of his various knickknacks and miscellaneous items matching his personality. Even the bed, as dirty as the mahogany bedsheet was, held the earthy tone he knew matched the Spaniard. The mess of clothes and cans littering the floor of his room only solidified the fact that the emerald eyed man definitely resided in this room, its haphazard appearance perfectly reflecting its owner.

In a twisted sort of way, he figured he would probably miss this place despite only having been there a few hours. He would never admit it out loud, but sleeping in a bed after so many weeks of passing out in hideouts and crawl spaces or wherever he could find shelter really messed with him. Instead of leaving this place in the dust and stealing away into the night to track down his brother like he had been planning on doing, Lovino almost wanted to crawl back under those soft covers and let sleep take him. It would do his body and brain a world of good if he were to actually sleep a whole night as opposed to an hour or three here and there, and while this place was certainly secure enough, he knew if he didn’t leave now it would just get harder to escape. As disorderly and insane as its owners were, the place itself was very safe, and safe was the best he could he could ask for in a world like this. Safe meant a better shot at life.

As Lovino pulled on his backpack from where he had set it on the floor beside the bed and took out his knife from the front pocket to grip tightly in his hand, he gave the room one last look over before slipping his dusty Converse on and tiptoeing out of the room without any trouble.

The three men that had taken him in were admittedly more stupid than he had given them credit for. How hard was it to see that he had been feigning sleep until they went to bed? It was almost too easy to deceive them, and as he slinked his way down the hall and into the equally dark living room, Lovino allowed himself a smirk. It was almost too easy to sneak out. The only problem he had to deal with was silence as he began to pick up as many cans as he could and stuff them into his backpack, careful to avoid making any noise. As he arranged them in a way that would prevent them from clinking together when he moved to ensure he didn’t wake anyone up, he spared a glance down the hall where he came from.

Fucking idiots. They were being robbed and they didn’t even know it.

It wasn’t even like he _wanted_ to steal their food. Apocalypse or not, he still had morals, and stealing was something he tried his hardest to avoid. Everyone needed a set of rules to live by no matter how vague or arbitrary they happened to be or else they would turn into power hungry savages, in his opinion. He had to break his rule about stealing from living people now, however. There was no other choice. If he was going to get to Feliciano and provide somewhere safe for him, then he needed to at least have enough food on him to last the both of them a few days. 

Well, provided he found him in time, of course.

“Dammit Feliciano, you better still be alive.” He murmured under his breath as he zipped up his bag and mentally prepared himself to go out into the night, crawling with walkers and away from safety. It was definitely going to be a difficult feat; one unfortunate bump into one of those things would surely end in his death or in the very least a life threatening chase through a terrain he wasn’t familiar with. Not that he hadn’t been through his fair share of nightly terrors already. In fact, he was willing to bet that no one was truly untouched by them. Still, the noises outside the admittedly thick walls of the apartment were louder than he remembered them being, fear gripping his heart and limbs as he worked up enough willpower to make his way over to the window and-

“Where are you going?” A soft voice sounded from behind him, the sudden noise startling Lovino so badly that he dropped his knife as he whipped around only to come face to face with the one man he had been planning on never seeing again. 

“W-what are you doing awake?” Lovino stuttered, heart dropping into his stomach at the realization that he had been caught red handed stealing from the group of potentially dangerous people that had taken him in. His legs felt like jelly as Antonio pushed himself up from where he had been sitting on the couch, the darkness having bathed him so well that Lovino hadn’t noticed him sitting there. 

Lovino could barely make out the shape of Antonio’s shoulders as the Spaniard shrugged and stepped forward until he was bathed in slivers of moonlight, stopping a few feet away. The only sound in the apartment was the muffled grunts and gurgling outside the window, suddenly much more noticeable now that Antonio was there with him. “Keeping watch.” He answered casually around a poorly concealed yawn, as if Lovino wasn’t just about to make off with a week’s worth of their supplies. “We all take turns during the night. I have first watch tonight.”

Fuck. Well, now that his plan was all but shot down by the man standing in front of him, Lovino couldn’t push back a wave of panic that threatened to take over. “I-I…” He began, licking his lips when they suddenly felt much more chapped than before. “I told you I can’t stay here.” He tried weakly, already knowing he wasn’t going to get away. As useless as Antonio seemed to be from what he had seen of him so far, he knew the man wouldn’t let him get away.

Antonio nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he glanced from the window to Lovino before his eyebrows drew together in what was either concentration or mild irritation given the soft beginnings of bags under his eyes. “You keep saying that.” He acknowledged as if he weren’t uncomfortable at all with the fact that all Lovino had to do was reach down to pick up his weapon and a knife would be in his possession. “But you didn’t answer my question. Actually, you didn’t answer any of them. So I’ll ask one more time,” he took a tentative step forward, the moonlight making shadows dance across his face, “what’s out there that you can’t find here?”

Ah, what a loaded question that was. His brother, for one, was out there while Lovino was here, in an apartment cut off from the outside with three other able bodied people. Three other people that were capable of gathering supplies and ensuring everyone was safe, something he wasn’t sure Feliciano had.

It just wasn’t fair. 

“A lot of things.” Lovino answered cryptically, willing himself to calm down before he had a full-fledged panic attack in the middle of the living room in front of a man who he wasn’t sure would refrain from exploiting it or not.

His answer didn’t seem to appease Antonio’s curiosity despite how much he wished it had. “That’s really vague.” He commented as he heaved a sigh and spared a glance at the curtains drawn across the window. “But not as vague as it could be, I guess.”

There was a hint of knowing in the other man’s voice that didn’t sit right with Lovino. It sounded as if Antonio knew something about what he was hiding, and that fact alone was enough to freeze the blood in his veins and send his heart into overdrive. Was it possible that the Spaniard knew he was looking for someone? What if…

What if he had come across Feliciano and wasn’t telling him?

Asking outright if he had seen his brother was dangerous; who was to say these three wouldn’t learn that he had a brother running around somewhere and hunt him down? Just because they provided him with somewhere to sleep and some food didn’t mean they would give his brother the same treatment. On the other hand, if he didn’t inquire about the survivors Antonio had seen, he would never know if he was chasing a ghost or not. In the end, the decision was a no brainer. 

Antonio was quick to back down when it looked like Lovino was about to break, a concerned lilt to his voice that sounded more caring than the Italian wanted to acknowledge meeting his ears. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked softly, wary of being too loud or overbearing. 

It was a few moments before Lovino managed to get his thoughts in order and come out with the question he needed to be answered. 

“The- the other survivors you met,” Lovino began, voice and legs shaky as he stared hard at the ground, willing the tears burning the back of his eyelids to keep themselves at bay as the anticipation and overwhelming anxiety caught up to him. “What… did they look like?” He whispered thickly, fists clenched by his sides as endless possibilities ran through his head. He heard a confused intake of breath from Antonio as the man undoubtedly put the pieces together, taking a while to formulate an answer, one Lovino wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear or not. 

“…We ran into a group of two girls first.” Antonio began, choosing his words carefully like Lovino would break if he weren’t careful. “One with short blonde hair and one with long, platinum blonde hair. The one with short hair was crying while the other one had a really scary expression on her face.” He murmured, staying right where he was as he spoke. “They, uh… they seemed to be doing pretty well. They were dirty of course. No one is clean anymore, but there was something about them that seemed like they would really be able to make it.” He elaborated, unsure of what Lovino was looking for but willing to describe everything he could if it would help. “The third survivor we ran into was a slender man with straight brown hair. He was by himself.” Antonio hesitated, not sure how he should continue.

Lovino inhaled a sharp, shaky breath, images of Feliciano running and crying in the streets while being chased by those things outside nearly bringing him to his knees. 

Noticing the reaction that got from the Italian, Antonio paused for a moment before continuing in a much softer voice. “That one… he lasted a few minutes before we saw him turn a corner and get caught.” He recalled, taking another step forward until he was a mere two feet away from Lovino. “He had his hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. I think his eyes were green, but it was hard to tell. We left when he started screaming. Attracted too much attention, you know?” He tried to ease the mood only to fail miserably when Lovino let out a strangled breath. “…Do you want me to continue?” he asked gently, voice laced with concern that the Italian couldn’t help but notice and latch onto. All he could do was nod in response, a jerky movement that felt wrong to him. 

“S-si… please.” He breathed, needing to know if his brother was one of those people Antonio and his group had happened to run across. Needed to know that he was still alive, that there was still hope.  
Taking Lovino’s plea to heart, Antonio took another step forward until he was just a foot away from the Italian, the strained sound of harsh breaths coming from the man in front of him making him frown in understanding. “The last group we ran into was doing much better than us.” He continued softly, watching as Lovino’s fists lost their white knuckles and seemed to loosen up a bit. “There was a blonde man and a blonde girl with a ribbon in her hair. They were both pretty roughed up but they both had guns and boy, did they know how to use them.” He offered the boy staring at the floor a smile. “We didn’t think we would run into anyone that had guns let alone how to use them, but we were wrong. They took the food we had managed to steal from the mart down the street and held us at gunpoint until they were far enough away for us to not be a threat. Other than those people…” He heaved a soft sigh. “We haven’t met anyone else alive aside from you. You’re the first living person we’ve encountered in two weeks.”

Lovino didn’t know if that was supposed to make him feel better or not but he found himself relaxing marginally anyway. At least they hadn’t come across Feliciano and saw him getting eaten. 

It was a small reassurance but he would take it gladly.

Deciding to take the Italian’s silence and slightly less stiff shoulders as a good sign, the Spaniard in front of him made the decision to take the plunge and ask what he had clearly been meaning to bring up ever since he saw Lovino sneak his way into the living room and begin stocking up with their food. “Who’s Feliciano?”

And there went all the progress Lovino had made in calming himself down. Hearing his possibly deceased brother’s name was enough to open the floodgates, a guttural sob tearing from his throat before he could help it. God, how could he let himself be caught like this? What would Feliciano say when he told him how he was so close to freedom only to be dragged back by a man with emerald eyes? “It doesn’t matter.” Lovino muttered in a tight voice as he fought to get a hold of himself, willing the relieved tears clouding his vision away. God, why was he always crying? That was Feliciano’s job!

A soft sigh came from the man in front of him when he sniffled, something he couldn’t bother denying he did when it felt like he had been hit with a brick. 

“It does if you were willing to steal most of our food but it’s okay.” Antonio murmured in defeat, a gentle look in his eyes as he studied the boy in front of him. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I… I think I understand. I’m sorry for pressuring you.” 

Hearing that Antonio wasn’t going to force him into submission to get him to talk took a heavy weight off of Lovino’s shoulders, the relief trickling through his limbs as he took a deep breath to steady himself. It was a full minute and a half before he managed to find his voice in between the waves of anxiety crashing over him for an entirely different reason. “…What are you going to do?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

The question took Antonio off guard, his face betraying his shock as his brows drew together in confusion. “Huh?”

Normally Lovino would have been upset that he had to repeat himself, the ignorance and obliviousness the Spaniard exhibited irritating, but he was so emotionally and mentally drained that all he could do was growl. “What are you going to do about this?” He repeated, making a halfhearted gesture to his backpack that was overflowing with the cans he had been attempting to steal. 

“Uh… beg you not to leave?” Antonio tried, face contorted in confusion as if he hadn’t just witnessed the man he had taken in attempting to make off with the rest of their food and supplies. 

All Lovino could do was stare at the man in a tired sort of disbelief. “Aren’t you gonna tell Gilbert and Francis that I’m trying to escape?” He pressed, genuinely perplexed by the apparent lack of caring Antonio showed. 

Realization dawned on Antonio’s face almost painfully slowly, the confused pinch to his brows smoothing out. “Should I?” He countered, the honest tone in his voice giving Lovino a bit of a surprise. The lack of willingness to tell his friends that he had been about to make off with all of their things was shocking but then again a lot of things about the Spaniard took him by surprise, so he shouldn’t have found it as much of a shock as he did. 

“I-I don’t really care if you do or not.” Lovino stumbled over his words, cursing himself for sounding so pathetic in a situation like this. “Either way, I’m… I’m still leaving. You can’t stop me.” He frowned at how his voice scratched, strained and hesitant in a way that sounded like he had been up all night screaming at the top of his lungs instead of choking back tears.

Antonio was silent for a moment before he bent down and began to collect cans that Lovino had missed. “Okay.” Was all he said as he shrugged, carrying four cans to the side of the bookshelf near the kitchen before yanking out a beaten looking brown backpack from the floor and stuffing the cans inside. 

“What are you doing?” Lovino demanded, watching the other man like a hawk before hastily picking up his knife in preparation for whatever the Spaniard was planning. 

“I’m coming with you.” Antonio answered nonchalantly as he set about zipping up the backpack and slinging it over his shoulders. 

“No you’re not.” Lovino immediately denied, eyes narrowing at the Spaniard as he adjusted the backpack straps so they didn't cause any discomfort. 

“I’m not letting you go alone.” Antonio argued. “Especially at night. I can help you to wherever you need to go and if you don’t want me to stay then I’ll leave as soon as you’re safe, but you’re not going by yourself.”

Of all the things he expected Antonio to say, offering to put himself in danger to escort him to somewhere he didn’t even know was the last. It was selfless to the point of plain stupidity. Then again, where did the Spaniard think he was escorting him to? Another house just around the corner where he could curl up in blankets and just sleep away the apocalypse? The idea was laughable but the determined set to Antonio’s jaw wasn’t something to be laughed at and neither was the familiarity with which he picked up his bat. 

“Didn’t take you for a martyr.” Lovino commented when it seemed like Antonio was finished packing, sizing up the meager amount of cans he had stuffed into his backpack and giving him a disapproving look.  


“And I didn’t take you to be so reckless so I guess we’re both surprised. “ Antonio replied easily, running a hand back through his sweaty bangs to keep them out of his face before beginning to turn and head toward the hall. “Hold on, I have to go wake up Gilbert and have him take watch for me.”

Panic set in immediately and picked up right where it had left off, his palms growing clammy and his heartbeat thundering in his veins. Given how Gilbert had reacted to him back when they first met in Walmart and even hours earlier, he wasn’t eager to see how the red eyed man would treat him once he learned that he was trying to escape after stealing from them. _“No!”_ He hissed sharply, having the sense of mind to almost feel alarmed by how fast Antonio stopped and whipped around to face him. 

“No?” Antonio echoed. “I can’t just leave them here without someone keeping watch. What if someone breaks in or walkers manage to get through the door somehow?” He pressed, not able to see the reasoning behind Lovino’s apparent terror of him waking up Gilbert. Out of him and Francis, the German seemed like he would be the one to take his attempted escape the worst. 

“Wake up Francis instead.” Lovino practically pleaded, wracking his mind for some excuse that Antonio would buy. “Gilbert looked really tired so I don’t think waking him up right now would be good for his health.” God that was such a bullshit excuse. Antonio seemed to buy it though, his face brightening when he came to the conclusion that the Italian was just looking out for his friend.

“Ah, you’re probably right. Good thinking!” Antonio offered him a tiny smile. “I’ll go wake up Francis and have him come out here and take over my shift, okay?” He agreed.

The way he agreed so wholeheartedly made Lovino feel a bit bad for bullshitting him, his smile, no matter how small it was, brighter and more honest than anything the Italian had seen in the past few weeks. “Okay.” He agreed, remaining where he stood as he flicked a glance at the window, assessing how long it would take for him to climb out should Antonio leave the room.

“Are you going to be okay if I leave for a minute?” Antonio inquired, tone more understanding and suspicious than Lovino could handle at the moment. He had probably seen him glance at the window. 

Fuck.

“I’ll be fine! Just go get Francis already!” Lovino insisted sourly, his plan on escaping while the Spaniard was away all but gone up in smoke. 

Antonio paused mid step to turn around and give Lovino a hesitant look, one that suggested he was being tested somehow. The questions he wanted to ask were practically plastered all over his face, his brows pinched in concern or curiosity, possibly a mixture of both. “Do you really want me to get Francis?” He asked after a moment, adjusting the weight on his back so it wasn’t digging into his shoulder blades as much. “Neither of them are going to like to hear this no matter how I put it.”

Lovino frowned at the Spaniard’s hesitation and scowled when he mentioned Francis not liking what he was doing. “There’s no choice. I’m leaving whether he likes it or not- whether you like it or not.”

A faint hint of sadness dampened Antonio’s previously way-too-upbeat-for-the-apocalypse expression from earlier, his shoulders slumping a bit as he seemed to wilt a little at the harsh words. It almost made Lovino feel bad.

Almost.

“You’re right. I don’t like it.” The green eyed man admitted softly. “I wish you would at least stay until morning so we can all accompany you and make sure you get where you need to go safely.” He mumbled, giving Lovino what had to be the worst puppy eyes the Italian had ever seen. Goddammit.

“I can’t wait that long.” Lovino admitted, tearing his gaze away to avoid being persuaded and crossing his arms, hugging himself to have some kind of comfort. “What if it’s too late?” He demanded knowing full well that Antonio didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, the anxiety from earlier coming back with a vengeance.

Antonio seemed to consider this information for a moment before he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled it, eyes downcast in thought. “Neither of us have any idea if it’ll be too late or not, whatever that means.” He sighed, running a hand back through his hair in exasperation. “But just… do me a favor and take a good look outside before you try to leave.” He conceded, waving a hand toward the window in a gesture that screamed discomfort.

Suspicion immediately set in as Lovino turned to glance at the window the other man was gesturing to, the curtains drawn and hiding whatever the street was harboring. From the way it seemed to make the Spaniard so antsy, he assumed it wasn’t something he was going to like.

Creeping across the room after sending a stern look to the other man to assure he wasn’t going to get shanked the moment he turned around, Lovino tiptoed his way to the window and drew those horribly gaudy brown curtains away just enough to peek out the glass to see what he was talking about.

And promptly wished he hadn’t.

There had to be upwards of thirty of those snarling fuckers wandering around out there in the dark, littering the previously vacant streets and producing a cacophony of groans and growls that sent a wave of goosebumps up and down his body like a wave, every hair standing on end. The light the moon gave off was enough to reveal the gnashing teeth and various stains of red that painted the walkers’ bodies and clothes, drawing attention to the attributes that made them so dangerous. The moment he stepped foot out of the apartment, he was as good as trapped. As much as he liked to think of himself as being capable in most situations, there was no way he would be able to get past all of those walkers and he knew it. 

Swallowing thickly against the terror that ran through his veins from knowing just how close they were, no matter how high up, Lovino closed the curtains again and slumped against the wall beside it, slowly sliding down until he hit the floor. 

This… this was just too much. “Why are there so many?” He whispered, staring hard at the ground as if it would give him answers.

Setting his backpack on the ground when it became apparent that Lovino wasn’t going anywhere that night, Antonio sat down in front of the Italian with a soft huff as he crossed his legs and got comfortable. “We don’t know.” He answered after a moment of silence, the only sound in the apartment the muffled snores from Gilbert’s room and the subdued noises from outside. “They always gather in the streets at night. Maybe they used to live around here and feel connected to the familiar surroundings somehow?” He mused, gaze shifting from the window to Lovino and locking onto him. “But, ah, who knows?” He cracked a lopsided grin, the quirk of his lips not matching the distant look in his emerald orbs.

Lovino could have sworn that gaze invoked a physical sensation in him, being pinned to where he sat by nothing but Antonio’s stormy eyes. “Why…” he began, voice cracking as he swallowed to get rid of the sensation of a dry throat. “Why did you offer to come with me?”

Antonio glanced down at his lap for a moment before his eyes softened and he offered the Italian a tender smile, an expression Lovino never thought he would see on another human being ever again. Goddamn, today was really turning out to be a rollercoaster of a day. “What kind of person would I be if hadn’t?” He asked lowly, voice a comforting and soft lull like a parent cooing to their child. It should have sounded odd coming from a man in his early 20’s, but coming from Antonio, it almost sounded reassuring. “Despite what you might think, none of us want to see you hurt. Me in particular. We… we’re not the monsters you think we are.” He murmured, honesty so raw on his face that Lovino had to look away, fixing his attention to the floor in front of him once again.

“So you’re offering to escort me just to make you feel like a good person?” Lovino demanded after considering his words, the normal bite in his tone absent as hopelessness sank in and soaked up all of his anger, leaving behind nothing but exhaustion and the feelings of defeat. He wasn’t going anywhere that night; no way, no how. Feliciano was going to have to wait for even longer, as unfair and cruel as that was.  


Quick as lighting, Antonio snapped his gaze back up to lock onto Lovino, surprise coloring his face for a few fleeting seconds before he released an ugly snort.

What the Spaniard found humorous here, Lovino didn’t know.

“No, nothing like that.” Antonio assured him, something akin to pain dancing in those captivating orbs. “I guess you just remind me of someone, is all. Stubbornness and all that.” He frowned, the expression not one that looked good on him, Lovino thought. It brought out all the angles in his face which was certainly attractive- well, attractive to some, he supposed- but the wistful and brooding edge to it made him look unappealing, almost as if his expression didn’t fit on his face. 

After that, Lovino chose to stay silent. There was no way he could respond to a statement like that without dredging up some undoubtedly painful memories for the Spaniard, something he wasn’t keen on doing. It was only fair since he let up on pushing for information about Feliciano.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Antonio’s voice echoed in the room, a sound Lovino found himself almost relaxing to. “I don’t even know your name, where you’re from or where you’re going, but I…” He watched as the other man stared down at his hands, seemingly coming to a conclusion before snapping his attention back to Lovino and holding his gaze. “I know it’ll be really hard having to watch you go.” He admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, as if he were afraid of being hit or yelled at if his words were heard. 

Well then. That had to be the most surprising things he’d heard the Spaniard say in the whole ten or so hours he had known him, the shock of his words causing his breath to catch in his throat and his eyes to narrow. “I’m not a charity case. You don’t have to protect me just because I remind you of someone.” He growled. 

Antonio quickly shook his head. “It’s nothing like that.” He denied, his voice cautious but honest as he positioned his backpack off to his side so he could stand without the added burden. “Yes, you remind me of someone, but that’s not what I’m trying to get at. I know you’re capable of handling yourself, that you don’t need protection. No one makes it this far without being self-sufficient. I just… I don’t know how to explain it.” He struggled to find the right words.

Lovino watched silently as the other boy struggled for words, wary of Antonio as the growling in the street remained a cruel reminder that he was stuck there for the time being.

“I don’t want to see you die. Out there… there’s safety in numbers, I know you know that. So please, even if it’s just for another day, stay with us. I don’t care if you never tell me your name if it means that you’ll stay with us until it’s safe for you to go.” Antonio begged, the expression on his face betraying that he wasn’t exactly happy with the words that ended up coming out. It looked like that wasn’t what he planned on saying but it was out before he could stop himself. Those selfless words he was spouting didn't make sense. In the world they lived in, filled with people who lived to one up each other and slaughter innocents in order to survive, Lovino found it almost impossible to believe someone this earnest still existed.

On any other occasion, Lovino would have scoffed and ignored him, but as it was, he couldn’t step one foot out of the apartment without being torn to shreds. 

That kind of danger tends to change people’s ideas pretty fucking quick.

“…Lovino.”

Antonio looked at him sharply, green gaze open and curious as he tried to sort out what he was told. “Huh?”

Lovino heaved a sigh and lifted his eyes to lock onto the Spaniard’s, forcing the words out before he lost the nerve. “My name.” He clarified. “It’s Lovino.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes taking chances isn't worth it.

As soft morning light spilled into the living room between those horrendous curtains and bathed the room in shades of orange and yellow, Lovino found himself blinking heavy eyes open and surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. At first, the fact that he was somewhere safe was the only thing he could focus on. Not having to jump to his feet and constantly be on the lookout had a sort of disarming effect, though he assumed it was only because he was so drop dead tired that he felt anything resembling safety as he made the slow transition from dreamland into reality. 

Nothing looked different than it did last night, the cans still in his backpack where it lay on the ground in front of him and Antonio’s own pack pushed more off to the side. The only thing that changed was a worn looking blanket that had been thrown over his body sometime during the night, its well-loved tan fabric thin but warm as he fought to wake up. “Ugh,” he groaned from where he was leaning against the wall beside the window, his back cracking uncomfortably as he shifted into a more upright position and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Finally awake?” A gruff voice sounded from the couch, startling him enough to drop the blanket and let it pool around his waist instead of his shoulders as he scrambled for his knife by his side only to find it wasn’t where he left it. Glancing sharply at Gilbert, the German man merely stared back at him from his spot on the couch and held up the knife he was looking for while Francis stood behind the couch with his arms folded, a carefully neutral expression on his face. Antonio sat beside Gilbert looking anything but comfortable, wringing his hands nervously in a way that certainly didn’t make Lovino feel any better about the situation he found himself in. “Looking for this?” The red eyed man drawled, dangling the knife from between his fingertips as he glared at the Italian. 

“That’s mine,” Lovino growled low in his throat, apprehension and dread producing a nauseating cocktail of emotions in his stomach at the realization that Gilbert must have figured out what he had been trying to do last night, and if Antonio was there, then that meant he must have told. “Give it back.”

Gilbert snorted at his demand. “You know, normally when people take advantage of our hospitality and try to steal our supplies, they don’t have the right to make demands.” He said with feigned nonchalance, Antonio growing more and more fidgety beside him as he looked between the two hot headed men. There was a charged silence brewing in the room and he didn’t like it.

Sensing there was no other way out of this situation, Lovino tried his hand at feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I fell asleep last night out here because the bed was uncomfortable and that’s the last thing I remember.” He lied, sending a look of utter betrayal to Antonio for letting this happen and watching the man wilt under his gaze.

Francis saw right through his farce and shook his head at Lovino, fixing him with a steady look. “Lying isn’t going to help your case.” He spoke up, leaning against the back of the couch as Gilbert sized him up.

“I’m not lying.” Lovino insisted, realizing he was caught but not willing to give up on the charade. He couldn’t afford to; being caught lying about something he already lied about would only make the trio in front of him more likely to take drastic measures, if the look on Gilbert’s face was anything to go by. Antonio might not be the kind of person to take drastic measures, but he had no doubts that Gilbert wasn’t afraid to cut someone down if they presented themselves as a threat. 

“Then why is your backpack filled with our food?” The German questioned in a carefully neutral tone, distrust displayed plainly on his face as he pushed himself up and stood to his full height, brandishing the knife he’d stolen from Lovino’s side sometime before he woke up. 

Lovino didn’t have an excuse for that so he kept his mouth shut, unable to do anything but watch as the German stalked over to him until he was a mere two feet away. There was something very intimidating about looking up into his furious orbs from where he sat on the floor, their color seeming to grow increasingly darker the angrier he became. It was probably a simple trick of the early morning light but was no less terrifying. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Gilbert growled when his question was met with silence, gripping the handle of the knife in his hand and making a move to close the distance between them when Antonio shot off the sofa and planted himself in Lovino’s line of vision, blocking him from Gilbert’s glare and knife. 

Seeing that broad shouldered back was much more preferable than having to withstand that heated stare, as much as Lovino loathed to admit.

“Intimidating him isn’t going to get anyone anywhere.” The Spaniard said in a low voice, firmly keeping his ground even as Gilbert stared at him in surprise. Obviously Antonio wasn’t someone who opposed what his group members said often if the way both he and Francis stared at the man like he’d grown a second head told him anything. 

“Who said I’m trying to intimidate him?” Gilbert frowned, taking another step forward only for the line of Antonio’s shoulders to tense up. “That little brat was going to make off with all of our food while we slept. Probably would have killed us too if you hadn’t been on watch. Intimidating him is just a waste of time.”

“He wouldn’t have done something like that!” Antonio denied before Gilbert could continue, growing more and more frantic when it appeared the other man wasn’t going to back down. 

“How do you know that, Antonio?” Francis spoke up for the first time during this whole mess, watching the way his friend turned to face him with a pleading and desperate look on his face. “You’ve known him for less than a day. How do you know he isn’t lying to you about everything?” The question was meant as more of a suggestion than a fact but Gilbert seemed to only get more riled up at the reminder of possibly being taken for a fool. 

There was no way Lovino could blame them for being suspicious no matter how badly he wanted to. People nowadays were almost as bad as the monsters roaming the streets for a snack, lying and killing to survive. Given what he had stupidly tried to get away with, it was no surprise that he was being treated like a threat. Actually, he would be more concerned if they didn't do anything when they discovered his failed escape attempt.

“Because he’s not like that!” Antonio argued, not willing to stand down and let Gilbert get to Lovino.

“You don’t know that, Antonio!” Gilbert nearly shouted at him, only managing to restrain his voice when the ever present growling outside served as a reminder that they had to watch their voices lest they gain a crowd of unwanted listeners. 

“I do!” Antonio argued right back, firm in his stance and conviction. “He’s looking for someone, Gilbert. You know what that’s like! He wasn’t going to hurt any of us; he’s just scared and trying to survive!”

If Lovino thought Gilbert’s anger was frightening before, the look on his face now was enough to send shivers down his spine. His brows drew together in such fierceness that they made the red of his irises stand out enough that his gaze alone was enough to render Lovino unable to move from his spot on the floor, immobile and forced to rely on Antonio for protection against the danger in front of them. 

“Don’t you dare bring Ludwig into this.” Gilbert hissed, body poised to strike as he glared down his friend. Even Francis seemed a little surprised at the mention of that name, his blue eyes widening a bit in what Lovino could have sworn was sympathy. 

While he wasn’t about to open his mouth and voice what he was thinking, the name Ludwig sounded awfully familiar. It wasn’t a common name where they lived, he knew that much, so why the name sounded familiar was beyond him. Still, something told him it was important, like a memory scratching at his subconscious that just seemed to get farther away from him the more he tried to reach it.

“I have to or else you won’t listen!” Antonio pleaded with Gilbert, drawing Lovino out of his thoughts. “You have to understand! He was going to take our food to go find whoever he’s looking for, he wasn’t going to hurt us! You would have done the same thing!”

Gilbert didn’t seem to like that, his jaw tensing in barely controlled anger. “It’s not the same.” He denied, eyes hardening when Antonio didn’t let up. 

“It is the same!” The green eyed Spaniard fought back. “Just… just let him go, okay? He didn’t hurt us so there’s no reason to do anything to him. We could always go out and get more food anyway. No harm done.”  


“I can’t do that, Antonio.” Gilbert ground out between clenched teeth, not looking one bit remorseful for the severity of his words as Francis stepped up beside him, hands held up in a placating gesture that Lovino knew wouldn’t work.

“Now Gilbert, don’t you think it would be a better idea to put the knife down and let him explain himself?” Francis tried to reason with the hotheaded German, not quite managing to get through to him when he saw the red eyed man turn his attention from Antonio to the Frenchman. 

The fact that he still had Lovino’s knife in his hand was a cause for concern.

“He knows where our base is. Even if we let him go and make him promise not to come back, how do we know he won’t break in and steal from us when we’re away or sleeping?” Gilbert demanded, ignoring Francis. “That’s right; we don’t. We don’t know him and no matter what you say, he’s a danger to us.”

Neither Francis nor Antonio tried to refute his claim, their expressions betraying their helplessness and inability to come up with an excuse. 

They had done all they could do to calm Gilbert down. Now it was up to Lovino to plead for his life. “I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He spoke for the first time since Antonio put himself between him and his friend’s wrath. “That wasn’t ever the plan. I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just… I need to find someone, like Skittles over here said.” He spoke slowly and carefully, aware of three pairs of eyes on him, soaking up every word he said and analyzing everything for any sign of deception. “If what they’re saying is true, then you understand.” There was no telling how Gilbert would take what he was saying, but he was facing the possibility of death here. He would say anything he had to in order to stay alive. “I’m telling the truth. If you don’t believe me, that’s fine. I won’t come back if you tell me to go, but please, I can’t- I can’t just leave him out there alone.” 

Out of the three men standing between him and freedom, only Antonio looked like he truly believed him, and while it was nice that the Spaniard was on his side to a degree, it was the other two he was worried about. Their distrust was understandable; he tried to steal a good deal of their supplies and sneak away into the night, no matter how unsuccessful his attempt had been. Most survivors would have stabbed him in his sleep if he tried to do that to them. “Please.” He repeated, desperation making his voice crack as he watched a cloud of regret pass over Gilbert’s face at the same moment an idea seemed to strike Francis.  
“Sorry, kid.” Gilbert sighed, tightening his hand around the knife in his grasp as he made a move to nudge a rigid Antonio to the side in order to get at Lovino. “You’re just too much of a risk. We have enough problems without the constant fear of being attacked by you.” 

“I’m not-” Lovino started.

“ _Put the knife down._ ” Antonio interrupted, voice deep and commanding as Gilbert froze. The way he sounded now was the complete opposite of his voice a mere minute ago, the usual upbeat note to his accented words reduced to a low timber that enticed goosebumps to spread over Lovino’s skin. 

It seemed Gilbert had the same sort of reaction, the hesitation in his posture and expression reflecting the way he saw Antonio right then. “Toni, he’s dangerous!” He argued weakly, the temperature in the room feeling like it had dropped significantly despite his attempts to reason with his friend. “We can’t let him go out there, you know that! If he came back and decided to try for our supplies again, there’s a chance he could kill one of us and I am not having your blood on my hands!” 

“Gilbert, put the knife down!” Francis hissed to the red eyed man, waiting with baited breath until Gilbert scowled and tossed the knife to the side with more force than necessary, the sound of it clattering to the floor echoing through the silent room.

“You’re making a mistake, Toni.” Gilbert warned Antonio, the Spaniard merely watching him from where he stood between him and Lovino. The man was nearly unblinking, staring his friend down even though they were roughly the same height. It was an odd sight to see, the complete flip in character honestly frightening Lovino a little bit. The only thing that made the situation somewhat tolerable was the fact that Antonio seemed to be on his side, which he was immensely grateful for. Who knew what Gilbert would have done to him had the Spaniard not intervened?

He would rather deal with Antonio than Gilbert any day no matter how strange the Spaniard’s sudden mood change was. 

“I know what I’m doing, Gilbert.” Antonio defended himself in that same low voice, demanding compliance with nothing but his words. “If Lovino’s not going to Marina with us then I’m helping him get to where he has to go.” 

While Antonio refusing to let him go alone wasn’t news to Lovino, the other part of his sentence was. “Marina?” He questioned before Gilbert or Francis could say anything, forgetting in his confusion for a moment that the white haired boy had been prepared to cut him down mere seconds ago. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Gilbert hissed when Lovino questioned the Spaniard, clenching his fists by his sides in preparation for a fight that Antonio wouldn’t let happen. “Wait, wait. _Lovino_?” 

“His name.” Antonio clarified, eyes flickering from those clenched fists to the red eyed man’s face. “He’s not a danger to us, Gilbert.” He insisted, still in that severe tone that didn’t sit well with the room’s occupants as the subject of Marina was pushed to the side for the time being.

“And since he’s not a danger, he has the potential to become an ally.” Francis finished for the green eyed man, stepping forward to place a gentle hand on Gilbert’s chest to keep him calm and separated from the two men in front of him. “Think about it. There are three of us now, and we can only do so much. But with _four_ of us, that’s another set of arms for carrying supplies and another person who can wield a weapon.” The Frenchman broke it down for everyone, not willing to lose Antonio over something like this.

“And another mouth to feed.” Gilbert frowned.

“I’ll share my rations with him.” Antonio argued, echoing his words from Walmart. “I don’t have a problem with it, and if it becomes an issue, I’ll go with him on more runs.” It was a simple solution, or at least Antonio seemed to think so. Gilbert still didn’t look convinced. 

“Antonio…” The German began.

“He’s probably a good fighter, too. He's thin and agile, more so than any of us.” Antonio interrupted, “So are we really going to let him go just because of a lapse in judgement? Gilbert, he’s the first living person we’ve seen in weeks and he’s willing to help us!”

Lovino definitely didn’t remember agreeing to helping but was wise enough to keep his mouth shut and let Antonio plead his case to the other two. Speaking up now would definitely get him into more trouble than it would help, anyway. 

“I’m not going to let you kick him out.” Antonio concluded as he balled his fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white as Gilbert’s face twisted into a snarl. The way his brows drew together and his lips curled in rage made the already crazy looking man appear even more unstable as he reached out and grabbed the collar of Antonio’s shirt in his fist and brought their faces close together.

“You know what? Fine, fuck it. If you want to endanger our lives for some stupid kid, be my guest. But you better be right, Antonio. If he does anything to incriminate himself again, I’ll personally make sure he feeds those fuckers outside.” Gilbert ground out before releasing Antonio with a shove and stepping back, turning infuriated eyes to Lovino for a moment to make sure he understood his threat. He blatantly ignored the looks of concern Francis gave him for that as he whipped around and stomped off down the hall, his footsteps echoing against the walls before the sound of a door slamming shut ended the symphony of sounds and silence shrouded them once again. 

Francis broke the stillness by running a hand back through his golden locks and sighing, a weary look in his eyes as he turned his attention over to the Spaniard who was still poised ready to defend in front of Lovino and the Italian who was still sitting on the ground. “That could have gone better, though I suppose it could have gone worse as well.” He shook his head as Antonio slowly relaxed, his fists dropping and shoulders relaxing once again, something Lovino found himself immensely grateful for. Even if Antonio was on his side, seeing the laid back man so tense and ready to fight made him sick to his stomach.

“He’ll come around.” Antonio murmured in response to Francis, taking a deep breath and holding it for a minute before letting it out in a heavy sigh as the Frenchman nodded in agreement.

“You know how he is. He just needs time. Abrupt changes to routine like this always throw him off for a little bit.” Francis sent a meaningful glance over Antonio’s shoulder to lock eyes with Lovino, trying to convey just what the ‘change’ was. “If I were you, I would give him some space for a while. Try not to insult him or be...well, just try not to speak at all. It’ll only make the situation harder on yourself.”

Lovino bristled at that warning, the adrenaline left over from the altercation with Gilbert making him more irritable than before as he pushed himself to his feet and left the blanket on the floor. “So, what, you’re telling me to just keep my mouth shut and do whatever that pale fucker wants me to do? I don’t want to be here, in case you haven’t forgotten.”

“That’s exactly what he’s telling you to do.” Antonio spoke up, turning around to face Lovino with an expression the Italian couldn’t quite name. “If you want to earn his trust and ensure you live to see another day to find whoever you’re looking for, then that’s what you have to do.”

“Trying to steal our supplies wasn’t a good move.” Francis sighed. “If you had just asked, we would have helped you.” Antonio nodded in agreement, sparing a glance at his own discarded and empty backpack from last night. 

“Well, sorry for not immediately trusting three strangers I just met.” Lovino scoffed, crossing his arms and eyeing the knife Gilbert had thrown with yearning. It was one of the only things he had left from his apartment aside from a raggedy spare change of clothes and his backpack, and apocalypse or not, it was all he had left of his previous life. Just because it was the end of the world didn’t mean he couldn’t be sentimental.

Francis shrugged. “No one blames you for that. Nobody nowadays would trust anyone they just met, but...” He exchanged a look with Antonio, running a hand over his stubble as he rubbed his chin. “You made a decision and now you have to live with the consequences. Antonio won’t let him hurt you, but he can only do so much.” He told the Italian before giving the green eyed man a pat on the shoulder and turning to head down the same hallway that Gilbert went down. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to try and talk some sense into Gilbert.” And with that, Francis left without so much as a glance over his shoulder at the two of them, just leaving him and Antonio standing beside the window watching his back. 

Antonio stayed uncharacteristically silent as Francis strode down the hallway and out of sight, the lack of rambling and general noisiness that usually spewed from the Spaniard’s mouth leading Lovino to believe whatever was going on in his head wasn’t going to be good. After the way he acted when Gilbert pointed his knife at him, he was willing to bet Antonio was still feeling some sort of leftover adrenaline from the encounter, which made the lack of noise even more worrying. 

“I didn’t tell them.” Antonio broke the silence, turning his attention back to Lovino. “Gilbert came to relieve me before I remembered to empty your bag. You passed out against the wall not too long after we finished talking so I told him to leave you there and that you weren’t going anywhere.” He explained in a haste, voice unsteady and tiny like he was expecting to be scolded or yelled at. 

“I just had my life threatened and you’re worried that I think you’re a snitch?” Lovino sneered, kicking the blanket that was pooled around his feet off to the side as he spoke. “Your priorities are pretty fucking messed up, Skittles.”

That didn’t look like it was any news to Antonio. “Sorry.” He muttered, averting his gaze and focusing on the blanket instead. “I just want you to trust me, you know? And Skittles? _Really_?” He murmured, a look that was equal parts amusement and tired exasperation crossing his face. 

Tearing his gaze away from the man trying so hard to gain his trust in front of him, Lovino eyed the hall the other two survivors went down and heaved a sigh. The groaning and gurgling from outside only made his breath come out heavier. “Shut up. You’re the one who threw Skittles at me and like hell I’m trusting you.” He quipped without any real bite. “Trusting strangers was dangerous even before this all began. What makes you think that you’re so worthy?” 

Antonio mulled over that statement until the corners of his lips turned upwards into a ghost of a smile and glittering emerald orbs rose to catch his gaze. “You tell me, Lovino.” He hedged around giving a straight answer. “We’re going to be here for a while so you’ll have a lot of time to make a decision.”

Despite the confidence Antonio seemed to have when he retorted, Lovino didn’t like the sound of this.

-

Two days. It had been two whole days since he was first assigned a babysitter with the name Antonio and Lovino had never been so close to going stir crazy before in his life. Nothing was more infuriating than watching the other two in the group go out on supply runs while he was stuck in the company of a man who somehow managed to slice his finger open trying to open up a fucking peanut butter container. It wasn’t fair at all but the scathing looks he felt on him every time Gilbert glanced at him kept him from stepping out of line no matter how badly his legs itched to carry him away from these three and into the arms of his brother. 

There was a limit to what he could do given his current predicament, but even so, it seemed like no one truly cared where he went in the apartment so long as Antonio was there to keep an eye on him. In his two days of being babysat, he made a mental map of the apartment’s layout and decided that out of all the rooms, he liked the Spaniard’s the best. It had the most personality and overall warm feeling about it, something that was lacking in the room Francis and Gilbert shared. Not that he would ever tell the man that of course, especially when Antonio looked at him with knowing eyes as he sprawled out on top of the other man’s bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking of everything and nothing. He was sure Antonio knew, anyway. It was a side effect from being left together for such a long period of time.

Fuck Gilbert and Francis for leaving them alone to go on a stupid supply run.

He supposed it wasn’t all bad though. As much as he needed to be out there fighting and searching for Feliciano, the fact that he didn’t have to be on the defensive every waking second was a sort of blessing. Antonio seemed to be used to just lounging around the apartment, the only sign that he was nervous at all about his friends being the nervous tick of him wringing his hands together when he thought the Italian wasn’t looking or the way his brows pinched together when a particularly concerning thought crossed his mind. 

The longer he was forced to be under Antonio’s watch, the more he began to wonder how the man had managed to survive this long. It wasn’t that he was stupid; no, this man knew far more than his airy voice and worryingly bubbly personality let on. He was just so spacy and distant at times that he almost seemed like he wasn’t completely there. It was a peculiar feeling, watching the chocolate haired man stare off into space with eyes glazed over and body deceptively tensed where he was seated on his computer chair. Did Gilbert and Francis know he did this? 

“Hey,” He spoke up once he’d had enough, pushing himself up onto his elbows on the mattress as he turned his gaze over to the man sitting in his computer chair a few feet away, watching the Spaniard turn those glassy eyes toward him. The sight was enough to make him shiver. “If I’m not allowed to go anywhere then you aren’t either, mentally or otherwise.” He pushed on, undeterred. If Antonio was going to be creepy then sure as hell he was going to call him out on it. Besides, there wasn’t much else to do. Reading required far too much concentration and he could only focus on his brother, so that was a lost cause and so was taking naps. His mind was just too wired to sleep. 

Blinking when Lovino snapped at him, Antonio came back to himself and offered the Italian a gentle smile despite the slight confusion painted across his face. “Sorry. I was just thinking.” He explained, sounding much too sure of himself when Lovino knew for a fact that he had been miles away only seconds ago.

“Don’t try too hard. I can practically smell the smoke coming out of your ears from here.” Lovino played along as he settled back down into the mattress, returning his gaze back to the ceiling. A soft noise from Antonio’s direction caught his attention for a moment before he turned his head to face him. 

“That was mean.” Antonio sighed, exhaling through his nose as he turned his attention back to the book he held in his hand, fiddling with the cross around his neck as he read. Lovino let him be for the moment, simply observing the way his eyebrows drew together just slightly when he stumbled over a word he had trouble understanding. It wasn’t unexpected given the book he was reading. Shakespeare was always a difficult read, or at least he assumed it was for the other man. 

“It wasn’t meant to be nice.” Lovino shot back without any real venom, still trying to erase the sight of Antonio staring into space from his memory. It shouldn’t bother him so much, he knew, but the fact that this man was in charge of him for the moment was a good enough excuse for the moment. 

When the silence surrounded them once again, Lovino made the decision to break it. "Hey Antonio," He began, carefully keeping his eyes fixated on the ceiling. "Who's Marina?"

The almost worrying level of silence that shrouded them once his question was out in the open was unnerving, but Antonio suddenly broke it with a harsh exhale that had Lovino sharply turning his head to glance at him. "Marina isn't a 'who', it's a 'what'." He explained excitedly. "Gilbert can explain it better than I can, but Marina is where we're headed." 

This was certainly news to Lovino. "You're all headed somewhere? Somewhere safe?" He asked suspiciously. In his experience, there was nowhere safe left anymore. Well, aside from this apartment anyway.

"Si, it's a little island north from here. Gilbert said his uncle used to go there when he was a kid and would tell stories about how there were barely any people living there, which is really great because less people means less of those things outside." He rambled to Lovino, growing more and more animated the longer he spoke. "I don't know much about it so if you're really curious you can ask Gilbert-" He cut himself off with a sheepish look. "Okay, never mind. I'll talk to Gilbert and get more information for you if you want. Hey, maybe you and the person you're looking for can come with us!" He grinned.

How anyone could grin in this fucked up world, Lovino would continue to wonder. "You would let me and another stranger go with you to this island?" That was a heavy proposal Antonio was giving him, especially since he definitely hadn't talked it over with his two friends yet, so he couldn't help but suspect something wasn't right about this whole Marina thing. 

"Of course! We wouldn't just leave you out here when there's someplace safe we can bring you." Antonio responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Uh huh." Lovino hummed, not quite believing this whole island story but filing the information away for another time. He would have to ask Francis about it later seeing as it appeared that Antonio really didn't know much else about the island if the slightly frustrated face he was making as he tried to think had anything to do with it. "Speaking of going places, when am I going to be allowed to leave? Haven’t you all kept me here long enough?” He demanded, sick and tired of the silent treatment he was getting from Gilbert and the sensation of being trapped while his brother had no idea where he was. 

When Antonio snapped his book shut and placed it on his computer desk beside a monitor that had no real use any longer, Lovino pushed himself up into a sitting position and crossed his legs. “It’s not up to me when you’re allowed to leave, if you ever are at all.” The Spaniard admitted.

“So you’re going to keep me here while my b- while the person I’m looking for is out there all alone?” Lovino demanded, quickly covering his slip up with anger. It was more a defense mechanism than a decision he made consciously. It always had been and he assumed it always would be since it was just a part of his personality. Anger was comfortable; it was something he knew how to deal with. “What the fuck kind of people do that?”

“The kind of people that are keeping you alive.” A voice suddenly chimed in from the doorway. “Be grateful you aren’t out there on your own struggling survive.”

“I can make it just fine out there on my own; I’ve _been_ doing fine on my own, until you three showed up and tricked me into following you back to this hellhole.” Lovino whipped his head around and growled at Francis, growing only more irritated when the man just leaned against the doorway. It didn’t matter that there were streaks of blood up and down his arms and staining his clothes.

“If you’re trying to get us to drive you away with insults and harsh language, then you’re not trying hard enough.” The Frenchman informed him with no hesitation. “All you’re doing is upsetting Antonio. Now come on, Gilbert and I brought back a lot of stuff that we need to count and sort.” Francis called over his shoulder as he waved a hand at Antonio to get him to follow before he left the room.

“I’m not upset.” Antonio quickly tried to reassure Lovino once Francis left the doorway. “I’m just... tired.” He tried to explain, but the Italian wasn’t having any of it. Francis had left him too irritated to be able to listen to anything at the moment, especially from the man he had been forced to accompany for the past forty eight hours. 

That was way too much Antonio for him to handle without blowing up at something.

“Whatever. Let’s just go get this counting shit done with so I can finally get some peace and quiet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yaaas another chapter! Sorry for the wait! And thank you to all the people who gave kudos and comments, every form of feedback is greatly appreciated!


	5. Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino is given a chance to prove himself but the consequences of such an opportunity make themselves known quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So here's another chapter. Sorry it's so short! I promise the next one will be longer and will introduce some new characters!

When Lovino mentioned he wanted peace and quiet, he hadn’t been joking. However, silence wasn’t what he got when he dragged himself out of the Spaniard’s room and into the living room, the green eyed man following right behind him without a word.

Sitting crossed legged in the middle of the living room was Gilbert, excitement practically rolling off him in waves from where he sat. “For a family run store, that place was surprisingly well stocked.” Gilbert rambled to Francis as he took out can after can of food from his backpack, not noticing the room’s new occupants as he stacked a can of peaches on top of a container of green beans. The boxes of various medical supplies beside him looked like a big haul compared to the flimsy first aid kit he’d seen in the bathroom when he had been exploring the apartment. “Look at all this food! And they’re not even close to being expired!” He grinned, the sight of him smiling alone enough to put Lovino in a bad mood. He knew well enough to stay quiet by now though.

“So we’re doing okay?” Antonio piped up, forgetting about the feud between the Italian and his friend momentarily at the mention of more food. Lovino couldn’t blame him; more food meant a better chance at survival, and survival was the top priority, especially when he was eating a good amount of the Spaniard's food rations to begin with.

Head snapping up to grin at Antonio, Lovino watched as the smile slipped right off of Gilbert’s face when he glanced away from Antonio and they locked gazes. It would have been insulting if he actually gave a shit about what the red eyed asshole thought of him. “Yeah, we’re doing great. Really great, actually. We have enough food to last about ten days if we ration it correctly.” He replied in a less enthused tone, flickering his gaze from between Lovino to Antonio as Francis stood off to the side and observed, silent and immobile. “But there’s one problem.”

Antonio visibly tensed at the mention of there being an issue, his eyes drifting to Lovino quickly. Whether he meant to or if it was just instinctual at this point, Lovino couldn’t say. 

“Problem?” Antonio echoed uncertainly, glancing between Francis and Gilbert as he waited for someone to break the news to him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Gilbert let out a huff of air and made a vague hand gesture to Francis, whose lips drew together in a thin line. Regret painted his scruffy face as he stayed silent and let Gilbert explain whatever it was that was wrong. “He can’t go on runs for a while.”

Well, this was a surprising development. “Why not?” Lovino asked before Antonio had the chance to process the news, eyeing Francis for any kind of external injury before focusing on Gilbert and trying to weed out any lies he was trying to sell him.

Gilbert didn’t look all too happy about being questioned by him, but Lovino didn’t give a shit. “…He landed on his hand wrong when we got attacked by some walkers.” He explained, bending his wrist back to demonstrate how Francis landed. “He can’t wield a weapon or carry anything for a week or two or he’ll risk breaking something, which is something we can’t deal with if an infection happens.” He stated as he resumed pulling out cans and sorting them, checking the expiration date on each one before setting it down in the corresponding pile. “So that leaves just me to go on runs, which we all know is a bad idea. Not because of my ability level but because there’s no way of knowing what’s out there waiting for us every time we leave these walls. Going alone is suicide.”

Lovino wondered why Gilbert was ignoring the fact that Antonio seemed completely healthy and able to go on runs but kept his mouth shut. Sometimes it was easier to just pretend he didn’t notice anything, which happened to be the case when he was around these three. 

“So then who’s going to go with you?” Antonio asked, wringing his hands in that nervous tick he seemed to have. “Am I going with you?”

Gilbert quickly shook his head at that. “No Antonio, you’re not going. You’re the one who knows first aid the best; we can’t risk anything happening to you, especially with Francis’s hand the way it is. That last run we all went on will be the last one for a while.”

That wasn’t as weak an excuse as Lovino thought Gilbert would pull, so he had to admit he was mildly impressed. If he was telling the truth then his decision was a sound one, but Antonio didn’t look at all like he was content with the verdict.

He honestly didn’t know why Gilbert thought Antonio would be. The man was stubborn in his own way and he had learned that the hard way these past few days, watching silently as the man struggled to get through some of Shakespeare's more difficult pieces and insisting on sticking together every fucking second despite being asking to be left alone so he could at least try to take a nap by himself. 

“I only know a little more than you do.” Antonio frowned at the German man, his brows drawing together in his frustration. "Anyone can do first aid."

“You’re staying here.”

“Gilbert-”

“No, Antonio. You’re not leaving unless it’s a dire situation.” Gilbert put a halt to any further arguments as he slammed a can down loud enough to demand silence. As crude as it was, it worked, no one in the room uttering a word as Gilbert took his time to stare at each and every person before breaking his own silence. “Lovino is going with me instead.”

Time felt like it had stopped for Lovino. After two days of being babysat by the world’s most accident prone babysitter, he was finally going to be allowed to go on a run? It was almost too good to be true. Then again, most things were nowadays. “And why would I do that? You can’t be stupid enough to think I trust you.” He demanded, rightfully suspicious of the sudden change of heart Gilbert had.

Gilbert rolled his eyes at that, cracking his knuckles and sending Francis a glance as if to blame him for getting his wrist messed up. “Of course I don’t. I don’t trust you either, but if we’re going to gather enough food to survive, we need to keep going on runs. Without someone to come with me, that can’t happen. You’re the only option.”

“No,” Antonio cut in, sounding more upset about this situation than Lovino did. “I’ll go instead. Lovino can stay here.”

“Antonio...” Gilbert sighed, running a hand over his face and back into his hair in exasperation. 

“It’s dangerous out there Gilbert! Let him stay here and I’ll go for him!” Antonio pleaded, the desperation in his voice almost hard to listen to as he stepped in front of Lovino as if to protect him from his friend’s plan. 

“For the last time Antonio, you’re staying here.” Gilbert frowned at his friend, giving him a glare that Lovino knew the German hoped would placate Antonio. “Your argument for him staying here was that he could fight, so now it’s time to prove if he’s worthy of staying with us or not. He’ll be fine.” 

“Gilbert won’t let anything happen to him, Antonio.” Francis assured him, giving the Spaniard a little nod that seemed to calm the green eyed man down a fraction. “If they’re not back by dusk, we’ll go looking for them, okay?”

“Excuse me,” Lovino spoke up, glaring at Gilbert and Francis as he nudged Antonio aside so he wasn’t obstructing his view any longer. “I’m fully capable of taking care of myself out there, in case you three forgot how long I was out there alone.”

Antonio immediately went back to looking like he was about to have a panic attack. 

Gilbert straightened up and pushed himself to his feet with a grunt. “Good, because we’re leaving right now so we can make it back before it starts to get dark. There’s a pharmacy about a half hour down the road that we haven’t pillaged yet, so that’s where we’re headed. Gotta raid it before someone else does.”

“Fine with me.” Lovino growled, stalking over to the corner of the room where his beat up backpack was shoved beside one of the bookshelves and slinging it over his shoulder with his back turned to the three pairs of eyes he could feel boring into his back. This was what he wanted, what he’d been praying for these past two days, but now that the moment had finally come, he could feel his heart thundering in his chest along with the footsteps stomping over to him. He was only half surprised when he was met with a pair of furious red eyes once he turned around. 

“I’m only going to say this once,” Gilbert growled, reaching out and fisting the front of Lovino’s shirt to drag them closer together, the albino’s disgusting breath fanning his face and making his lip curl up in disgust. “If you so much as even _think_ of trying to run while we’re out there, I won’t hesitate to kill you. The second you present yourself as a problem you’re done for. I don’t give a shit what kind of excuses you have. Don’t. Run.” It was as much of a promise as it was a threat, and despite the fact that Lovino could see Antonio nearly shitting himself out of the corner of his eye, he found himself sneering.

“I’m not that fucking stupid,” He retorted, slapping Gilbert’s hand off his shirt and dusting himself off. “So you can take your threats and shove them up your ass.”

“Lovino-“ Antonio started.

“Shut up, Skittles. I can do this.” Lovino cut him off rudely, not baring to spare a glance over at the man he knew was giving him a look he wouldn’t be able to stomach should he catch gazes with him. Over the past two days of his unfair imprisonment in this stupid apartment, he learned a few things about the Spaniard that he didn’t want to face at the moment, one of them being the heavy look the man would give him sometimes when he thought he wasn’t paying attention. 

He had a feeling he knew what that look was but he continued to deny it and would do so until his last breath. 

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Gilbert snapped at Lovino, giving him a warning look before snatching his own backpack and heading over to the window. 

“What’re you gonna do, send me to my room?” Lovino sassed even as he followed Gilbert to the window, blood pounding in his ears and hands shaking at the thought of going out there again. Quickly shoving his hands in his pockets to hide their trembling proved to be useless when he felt a gentle but firm hand land on his shoulder, prompting him to turn around only to be met with a pair of concerned emerald orbs.

Dammit, he had been so close.

“Be careful out there, si? I- we’ll be waiting for you.” Antonio murmured to him, his hand heavy and hot on Lovino’s shoulder as he flicked his gaze all around the Italian’s face like he couldn’t decide where to look. “Keep Gilbert safe and please come back in one piece.” He pleaded, his breath nowhere near as offensive as Gilbert’s had been when it fanned over his face, warm and sweet and _wow his eyes were kind of stunning this close up-_

Abruptly shrugging off that hand and refusing to miss its warmth, Lovino fixed a glare up at Antonio and took a step back to get himself out of that dangerous situation. “We’ll be fine, Jesus. Calm down.” He dismissed the other’s concern and turned to head toward the window where Gilbert was waiting with a barely veiled expression of impatience and suspicion.

“Don’t forget your knife.” Francis reminded him from where he hadn’t moved the entire time, gesturing to the knife Lovino had shoved into one of the side pockets in his backpack. Call him a paranoid shit, but he liked knowing where his weapon was at all times. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He called out over his shoulder just as Gilbert picked up his crowbar and opened the window, pausing to check both ends of the street before turning back to Lovino and gesturing for him to go down.

“It’s clear.” He announced before throwing the window open and reaching out for one of the branches closest to the windowsill, easily swinging his body onto the Oak and making his way down. He made it look almost effortless being the rude showoff that he was, though Lovino couldn’t find it within himself to care. All he was concerned about was making it to the ground in one piece, something Antonio seemed to share with him as he reached out and grabbed onto the same branch Gilbert had used only to feel a gentle but firm tug on the back of his shirt. 

This man just didn't give up, did he? “Oh for Christ’s sake, I’ll be fine!” He snapped at Antonio, turning around with insults on the tip of his tongue only to be met with a tight lipped expression that made his heart jump into his throat despite how hard he tried to keep calm.

“Come back and I’ll help you find Feliciano.” He whispered quietly enough so they were the only two that heard him, his voice carrying a heavy promise that Lovino wouldn’t let him take back now that it was out in the open. 

This was all for Feliciano, after all. The only reason he was still fighting was for the other boy, his purpose in life to find him and protect him like he should have done the moment this hell on earth started. It was because of him they got separated at the worst possible time, and it was up to him to reunite them.

“You talk way too much.” Lovino dismissed Antonio for the final time and turned around to hide the effect hearing his brother’s name had on him when Francis made his way over to stand beside the Spaniard.

Even though Lovino couldn’t see him do so, Antonio cracked a crooked smile. “I know.” He replied as he stepped back and watched the Italian climb out the window and make his way to the street below where Gilbert was waiting for him without so much as a glance over his shoulder. “Buena suerte, Lovino.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback of any kind is super appreciated and keeps me going lskdfjsalk


	6. The Pharmacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pharmacy might not have been such a good idea.

Despite the gnawing itch Lovino had been enduring for the past two days to leave that damn apartment, something about this impromptu run didn’t sit well with him. It was just too spontaneous for someone as organized as Gilbert, and as he followed the red eyed man away from the room he had been forced to call home for the past few days, that doubt only increased. 

Gilbert and Francis had just come back from a successful run so there were few reasons why going out so late on the same day to a destination that would take a good chunk of time to get to was necessary, none of which were pleasant to think about.

Not that he would ever admit it out loud, but being away from that apartment after feeling safer than he had in three months while there was messing with him a bit. Shocking as it was, he found he actually kind of wanted to go back, though he couldn’t blame himself for that. Anyone would choose safety over going out into danger.

Gilbert didn’t seem like one of those people, however.

“So…” Lovino whispered as he trailed behind his tight lipped guide, knife raised and ready as they slipped around the side of the bank across from their base and kept close to the wall. “Any particular reason why we’re going on a run so late in the day? This kind of isn’t a very smart move.” He asked carefully, keeping his voice low to avoid attracting any unwanted attention as they cut through backyards of abandoned little town houses. It was probably best to keep his mouth shut when they were out here but when Gilbert flexed his grip on his crow bar and pointedly ignored him, Lovino suddenly couldn’t stand the situation they were in. The mid-summer breeze rolling against his sweat slicked skin wasn’t as refreshing as he would have thought it would be a mere day ago.

It was complete bullshit. Here he was out in the open and putting himself in danger on some whim the albino had and yet the man couldn’t even grace him with an answer? Sure he had some practice giving the cold shoulder on more occasions than he would like to admit but this was a little ridiculous. 

If he was going to risk his life, he wanted to know what he was putting his everything on the line for. “Hey asshole, I’m talking to-“

Lovino almost had a heart attack when Gilbert suddenly whipped around and grabbed him by the collar of his beat up old black t-shirt and brought their faces close enough together for the Italian to notice the heavy bags under his companion’s bloodshot eyes. “I’m only going to say this once, so you better open up your fucking ears and listen well because no amount of Antonio whining will make me repeat myself.” Gilbert hissed, his words sharp and aiming to hurt as he growled in Lovino’s face. “We’re raiding the pharmacy because if we don’t do it now, there won’t be anything left by the time we run out of supplies. We don’t have enough to last as long as we should. Hell, we won’t make it halfway to Marina if we don’t stock up before there isn’t anything left.”

This new information combined with the way Gilbert looked like he hadn’t slept in a week slowly pieced itself together in Lovino’s mind. “So what you’re saying is-“

“We aren’t the only ones out here and we have no way of telling if the other survivors are friendly or not. There were signs that the place Francis and I went to earlier was raided not too long ago.” Gilbert spelled it out for him, momentarily tightening his grip on Lovino’s ratty shirt before pushing him back with a grunt. “I don’t want to go on this run either, believe me, but it’s either we go now and survive or run out of food and die before we even have a shot at safety.”

Lovino stumbled back as soon as he was released, catching his footing and glowering up at Gilbert. “Pushing me wasn’t necessary.” He spat as he dusted himself off and spared a glance around them to make sure there weren’t any walkers approaching. They really shouldn’t be discussing this out in the open like this but it was technically is fault for starting it, so he figured he would just take advantage of the situation and get as much information out of Gilbert as possible. After all, Antonio was expecting him to return. Gilbert wouldn’t hurt him if the Spaniard was rooting for him to make it back safely. Speaking of the soft-spoken man…. “Do Antonio and Francis know?”

Concluding that Lovino just wasn’t going to shut up until he got some kind of answer, Gilbert turned on his heel and pushed open a white picket fence in the backyard of a quaint house, its windows smashed in and front door ajar. “Francis knows, Antonio doesn’t.” He whispered back as he stalked across the grass, the acres of land that lay in front of them daunting.

That seemed to be a running theme here. Everyone but Antonio knew what was going on, and as much as Lovino knew it wasn’t his business, it bothered him a little bit. No one that was as sheltered as the Spaniard would be able to survive if something happened to his two friends. “Why does he never know what’s going on?” Lovino asked, taking the plunge and asking what he had been wondering ever since he was assigned his green eyed babysitter. 

To Gilbert’s credit, his steps didn’t even falter as he strode on, keeping an eye out for walkers as he led them in the direction of the pharmacy he wanted them to raid. His back was ridged and straight, giving off the impression that he was confident and capable. “None of your business.” Gilbert answered easily, cutting into another tiny house’s yard. 

Lovino should have expected that response, but hearing it still sucked. So many more questions were on the tip of his tongue as his inquiry was shot down, but something about the way that Gilbert was holding himself told him not to push his luck. Instead of pushing for answers, he focused on the path ahead and forced himself to remain silent the rest of the trip, lost in his thoughts.

The only thing he could do was hope Feliciano wouldn’t run into the other survivors.

-

By the time they reached the run down pharmacy at the edge of town, the sun was already starting to go down and the dry heat was starting to cool off with the promise of night. They would have to hurry if they wanted to make it back by nightfall, but Lovino wasn’t too worried. Maybe it was just his dehydration talking, but he really couldn’t give a shit at that point so long as they got what they came for and made it back at some point within the next few hours. 

Antonio’s promise to help him find Feliciano if he made it back was still fresh in his mind, fueling him to push on despite his exhaustion.

“So this is the place?” Lovino questioned softly, voice labored from all the walking as they crept along the side of the relatively larger than he expected pharmacy toward the trashed entrance, the blue letters displaying ‘Zack’s Miracle Pharmacy’ sign above the doors looking dismal and pathetic. He wasn’t impressed but thank god the doors were more intact than the store’s sign. He would take tiny victories over nothing. 

Gilbert cast him a look that suggested he was seconds away from demanding to know how he’d survived for so long for asking such a dumb question but nodded after a second as he raised his crowbar and cautiously pushed one of the doors open, the squeak of the glass against the floor sending both pairs of hearts fluttering in terror that something heard them. 

A few beats of silence went by, each second spent wondering how many walkers were going to burst through the aisles and come after them as the tension in the air became suffocating. When deafening silence met their ears, the adrenaline that pumped through their veins slowed down enough to allow them to breathe. Nothing moved beyond the stands filed with broken pairs of glasses and plastic plates, and Lovino hoped nothing ever would.

It wasn’t like dealing with the undead was as difficult as it had been in the beginning before the numerous encounters had left him numb to the feeling of cutting down another human being, but avoiding confrontation was always the better option. 

Gilbert waved a hand to get Lovino’s attention, pointing a pale finger to the left side of the store. “Go get as much food and supplies as you can fit in your bag, and if you come across a walker, don’t engage it unless you absolutely have to.” He instructed, already slinking toward the barren and destroyed displays off to the right before Lovino could even utter a word. “And don’t be loud. God knows you’re anything but quiet and we don’t need any problems.”

Damn. If this was how Gilbert was during runs all the time then Lovino could imagine Francis busting his wrist just to get out of going places with that ball of sunshine. 

Still, he had a job to do, and as he crept down the aisle that he could tell once held chips and canned goods judging by the molding mess covering the tiled floor, he grabbed whatever didn’t look too inedible and stuffed it into his bag haphazardly, the crinkling of a pack of sunflower seeds that had been pushed beneath the stand echoing across the store. 

The crinkling sound helped calm him down in a way, the silence having been too overbearing and stifling for him to put up with for too long. Call him whatever, but Lovino never truly liked full on silence ever since this hell on earth began.

He allowed himself to make only the tiniest of noises just to keep something filling the air as he moved down the aisle and headed to the little section where drinks were supposed to be, stepping over opened and emptied bottles of water and soda as he searched for an unopened can of any kind of liquid. The glass of the fridge had been broken, the shards on the floor crunching under his feet as he moved down the aisle in search of drinks and found himself empty handed aside from three tiny bottles of water and one dented can of Coke. Sugar was just as important to keep in their bodies as water, so he quickly slung his backpack off his shoulder and stuffed the bottles in alongside the sunflower seeds he picked up earlier. There weren’t any more options as far as drinks went after that so he didn’t waste any time before heading to the left corner of the store toward the beauty section.

That particular section of the store probably wouldn’t have anything they would need other than toothpaste and maybe some toothbrushes, but Lovino was going to check it out anyway. Gilbert would probably have his balls if he didn’t scope every inch of the place out, so as he made his way down the shampoo and deodorant area, he stayed silent and vigilant. Deodorant could be used for multiple things so he stuffed two sticks into his pack and made a move to reach for one of the air fresheners when a soft sound over where he had just come from cut through the air, instantaneously setting his nerves on fire and his heart into overdrive. 

_Thump._

Lovino immediately dropped to the floor and brandished his knife in front of him as he fought to hear beyond the blood pounding in his ears, his hands shaking without his permission as he slowly crept his way to the end of the aisle and peeked around the corner to glance at the section he had come from not even a minute ago. Nothing looked out of the ordinary aside from a roll of toilet paper on the floor that he knew for a fact hadn’t been there before. “Gilbert?” He called out, voice a trembling whisper as he ached to hear some kind of affirmative answer. When none was given and another slight rustling noise sounded from the aisle that he had gone through first, Lovino sucked in a sharp breath and readied himself for a fight as he weighed his options. Leaving a walker roaming around the store with them was more dangerous than eliminating it when it was distracted before it had the chance to take one of them out, but Gilbert’s earlier order to keep from engaging the brainless lumps of flesh echoed in his mind.

He quickly pushed the albino’s words out of his mind and came to a quick decision as soon as another soft crinkling sound came from the aisle beside his. Fuck him; if this was a walker, he was taking it out.

With determination fueling him he burst into the aisle, completely unprepared for what he saw.

A little boy who looked to be around ten or eleven stared back at him with wide grassy green eyes from where he was huddled behind a stack of fallen paper towel rolls on the bottom shelf, his thin face dirty and blonde hair a wild mess. 

Tear filled eyes framed by thick brows widened when he locked gazes with Lovino, a whimper clawing its way out of his throat as he fought to push himself further into the shelf he was hiding in, the rolls of paper towels not doing much to hide his slight frame. “No, no, no, no…” He chanted under his breath, face pale and absolutely terrified as he pressed himself as far away from Lovino as possible.

Finding a child was definitely not what Lovino had been expecting when he first heard signs of someone else being in the store. Children were never found alive; most of them were either eaten or turned into walkers because of their inability to survive alone, though he had only seen a handful of walker children himself. The few kids he had seen walking the streets or gorging themselves on an unfortunate snack were just a bit faster than the adults, more agile and reckless than their deceased adult counterparts. 

There was no doubt that this particular child in front of him was definitely alive and not at all like the walker children he had seen, his face pale with traces of color on his cheeks and nose that wasn’t present in the walkers outside. Those hints of pink were enough to ensure Lovino that he wasn’t in danger of getting bitten. That, and the boy looked like he was a few seconds away from a full blown screaming fit. “H-hey,” Lovino started awkwardly, hoping he didn’t look too frightening to the kid. His clothes were relatively clean and bloodless for the most part, but something told him that wouldn’t reassure the child in front of him any. “I didn’t see you there before. You’re pretty good at hiding.”

Despite his admittedly horrible attempt at talking with the kid, the blonde eyed adolescent seeking refuge behind the paper towel rolls took one look at the knife still clutched in his hand and bolted out from his hiding spot, nearly tripping over himself as he skidded down the aisle and ran straight into a solid torso waiting for him at the end of the aisle. Pale hands shot down and gripped the kid’s arms to keep him still as the poor child trembled in terror. 

“Who’s the kid?” Gilbert asked, keeping a firm grip on the writhing boy as he tried to escape his grasp and inspect him for any signs of being bitten. 

“L-let me go!” He squeaked, his voice cracking and dry as he struggled feebly against Gilbert. It was never a fair fight; Gilbert was much bigger and stronger than the blonde boy, and it took only seconds of the kid to realize he wasn’t going to win his freedom with strength alone. “Don’t hurt me! Please… please go away…” The child sobbed when he realized breaking free wasn’t an option, his tiny fists beating weakly at Gilbert’s chest as Lovino watched on with a heavy heart. 

Seeing the aftermath of what this world did to people was always heartbreaking, but seeing the effect on a child was ten times worse.

“We’re not going to hurt you, we’re just taking a few things to keep our friends alive.” Lovino tried to assure him once he found his voice, crouching down so he was at eye level with the boy. He was careful to keep a foot or two separating them just in case he tried something. You never knew what to expect with kids, not to mention ones who managed to survive in this shithole of a world. “What’s your name? Are you here alone?” 

That seemed to be one too many questions for the kid. Already glassy eyes began to water all over again, old tear tracks having pathed a path down his dirty cheeks. “P-Peter… I’m Peter,” He blubbered, unable to get anything else out around his cries.

Fearing an outburst that would draw unwanted attention to the store and put all three of them in danger, Gilbert sighed and dropped to his knees in front of Peter. “Alright, listen squirt. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. We just want food so there’s no reason for us to hurt you if you cooperate. We might even take you with us to safety if you don’t put up a fight.” Gilbert said lowly, voice gruff and no nonsense but containing a sliver of compassion and understanding for the child.

It was the first time Lovino ever heard him sound like that. 

The blonde boy sniffled and put his all into trying to get away from Gilbert, still terrified despite how hard he was trying to put on a brave face. “Y-you can’t take the food!”

“Why not? We won’t take a lot.” Gilbert questioned more softly this time. Scaring the boy wouldn’t get them anywhere. 

“Mama and Papa won’t have anything to eat when they feel better if you take the food.” He explained softly, clutching the bottom of his dirtied white shirt with grubby hands when he realized there was no way for him to get away with Lovino and Gilbert blocking each end of the aisle. With how skinny he was, it wasn’t hard to imagine him only eating enough to stay alive so he could make sure there was enough for his parents to eat once they ‘felt better’.

That gave both Lovino and Gilbert pause, the air suddenly feeling oppressive and thick. “'Mama and Papa'?” 

Peter nodded, taking a step back from Gilbert to put some space between them when he felt the hands on his shoulders slacken before raising a thin arm to point shakily over at a door in the back of the store. “Papa didn’t feel good so they went through that door. There were some crates of food and water in there so they’ll come out when they’re all better. They told me so.” He explained, breath hitching slightly from the aftermath of his crying.

Lovino didn’t like the sound of that. “How long ago did they go in there?”

Peter’s brows drew together for a moment in concentration before he shrugged his boney shoulders and looked at the ground. “I… don’t remember.” He admitted. “It’s been two days since the men came here, so… maybe a few more than that?”

Oh god. Had this kid seen the other survivors Gilbert had been talking about?

“’The men’?” Gilbert prompted.

Peter nodded. “Two men came in here and took some food a few days ago. One of them was really scary looking so I hid.”

Lovino didn’t know why, but that piece of information scared him more than the parent situation. Living people were much more dangerous than the walkers, and one glance at Gilbert told him they were thinking the same thing. 

The walkers could only do so much, but compared to what a human facing starvation could do, they were barely a threat. 

“What did these men look like?” Lovino asked carefully, making a show of putting his knife down so Peter wouldn’t be as wary of him now that he wasn’t armed. 

It wasn’t crucial to them to know what the men looked like. Hell, it was probably just going to be a useless piece of information, but perhaps there was a chance it was someone he knew. Peter might not have realized it, but speaking with them was slowly opening him up bit by bit, which was something they could use. 

Peter shifted uneasily from foot to foot as he played with the hem of his shirt, his silence bothering Lovino on multiple levels until he finally spoke up. 

“I only saw one of them. He was blonde and really big and his voice was a little scary.” Peter informed them, still eyeing the both of them. “I didn’t see the other one because I was hiding, but he talked a lot.” 

That was about as basic as a description could get, but Lovino appreciated the courage it took for Peter to be able to tell them all of this. “Okay. Thanks for telling us, Peter. You’ve helped us a lot.” He thanked the child, his heart breaking when the boy looked up at him with a questioning but reluctantly trusting look in his eyes.

God, this kid had the same eyes as Antonio.

Lovino didn’t want to think about how that was the first thing that came to mind.

“You said your Mama and Papa were in that room, right?” Gilbert asked as he spared a glance over at the door that he assumed was a storage room, snapping Lovino out of his thoughts. It would make sense considering Peter’s comment about there being food and water in there. Either that or it was an employee break room of some sort, though given the size of the pharmacy, it was probably a safer bet to assume it was used for storage. 

Peter hesitantly nodded at Gilbert’s question.

“Would you like us to check up on them?” Gilbert’s words sent a shock through Lovino’s stomach like a punch to the gut. Was he suggesting…? 

Peter’s eyes lit up at the idea, the poor kid, his expression going from skeptical to hoping in two seconds flat. “Mama and Papa told me not to go after them until they felt better, but they didn’t say anything about someone else checking on them.” He nodded, regarding Gilbert with a less frightened look. 

The expression Gilbert sent over the kid’s head caused Lovinos heart to make a nosedive into his stomach. There were only a handful of reasons why his parents would lock themselves away from their child, one of them being something that Peter obviously hadn’t thought about.

That, or he was repressing the thought.

“H-how did you get here?” Lovino stuttered out, hoping to relax the kid more and make himself feel less like a horrible person for what they were going to do. 

None the wiser, Peter frowned and turned his grassy eyes toward the storage room door. “Mama and Papa took me out shopping to get a puppy for my birthday.” He murmured, all previous hope in his voice drying up and being replaced with the heavy sadness of a child abandoned. “We were heading here to get medicine because Mama had a headache when all of a sudden a lady came out of one of the aisles at Mama and attacked him. Mama screamed and Papa got hurt pushing the lady away, and the boy behind the counter came over to pull the lady off of Papa.” He retold the events that lead to him being holed up in this tiny pharmacy. “Mama told me to hide and to cover my ears and not come out until him and Papa came to get me but… I got hungry. I couldn’t stay still any longer.” He sniffled, rubbing the back of his fist across his eyes stubbornly as he willed away tears. “Mama looked so scared and there was so much screaming so I did what I was told. He brought Papa in through that door to take care of him.”

As much as Lovino wished this kid’s parents were somehow still alive behind that door, he had known it was a vain hope. If they had been healthy, they would have come out for their son and done their best to keep him safe, not hole themselves up in a room and leave him here out in the open. 

In fact, the whole situation was quickly becoming too much for him to take. Without his permission his eyes began to water, prompting him to turn his head to the side to keep Peter from seeing.

Goddammit. What was Gilbert thinking?

“Don’t worry, kid! We’ll check up on them for you and see what they have to say, okay?” Gilbert chirped as he plastered on the fakest smile Lovino had ever seen, giving Peter a hardy pat on the back as he waited for the kid to nod.

The hope on his youthful face was enough to break Lovino. “Gilbert, can I talk to you for a second?” He whispered harshly as Peter glanced between the both of them, still visibly uncomfortable with their presence but not enough to try and make a run for it. After all, where could he go? He had to stay in here because his parents were still there and he was waiting for them, the reminder of what probably happened to him adding to the sting he could feel in his eyes.

Gilbert gave a stern look to Peter before nodding at him. “Go stand by the door your parents are behind, okay? We’ll check on them for you in a minute. Don’t open the door.” He instructed, jerking his head toward the storage room and watching Peter scamper off to do as he was told, the idea of finally getting to hear how his parents were after so many days of not knowing was too great of an opportunity to pass up. 

“What the _fuck_ are you thinking?!” Lovino demanded once Peter was out of earshot. “We came here to get supplies, not fucking slaughter a kid’s parents!” 

“Did you not hear what he said?” Gilbert hissed lowly, casting a glance over his shoulder at the boy who was cautiously approaching the door his parents were supposedly behind. “He said there were crates of food and water in there Lovino. Not just a water bottle here or there, whole fucking _crates_! If we could get those, we could have enough to make it to Marina and back without a probelm!” 

There was no way Gilbert could justify mowing down this kid’s parents just to get some food. There would be no way Peter wouldn’t hear them killing off his parents, and better yet, how the hell would they explain to him that his Mama and Papa were dead? He would definitely have a breakdown, and breakdowns weren’t quiet. They would draw attention to this stupid run down pharmacy, screwing them all. 

“So you’re going to do this? You’re really going to do it?” Lovino gestured wildly to the child waiting patiently outside the door like he was instructed to. “If you do this then we have to take him with us. We can’t leave him here alone, and you know what that means? That’s right; another mouth to feed. Antonio can’t share his remaining food with both me _and_ him.” Lovino tried to reason with the albino by bringing up his concerns about their rations. 

“It’s not that I want to! I _have_ to if we’re going to survive!” Gilbert took a step closer to Lovino until they were inches apart, their breath mingling as they panted angrily. “You want to find that person you’re looking for, right? What do you plan to do to keep them healthy and fed when you finally meet up with them? There won’t be any food left anywhere and I sure as hell won’t spare any of ours to save your ass because you’re too weak to do what needs to be done!”

Lovino didn’t know if it was the way Gilbert was hissing in his face or the fact that he was essentially telling him there was no other option than to slaughter a child’s parents to feed them that set him off, but either way, there was no turning back. “Listen here you albino prick,” Lovino spat between clenched teeth, fists white knuckled and shaking at his sides. “I don’t know where you get off on this, but there are other options. You don’t have to do this. I… I know you want to be prepared for when your brother shows up-“ He ignored the sharp inhale of breath that came from Gilbert at the mention of Ludwig, “-but this isn’t the right way. Doing this would make us no better than those things stumbling around outside. Call me weak or whatever the fuck you want, but I won’t do this. I can’t.” 

It took Gilbert a minute to find his words, his face twisted and full of rage as he reached out and grabbed Lovino by the collar of his shirt for the second time that day, bringing them even closer.

Maybe it was the mention of Ludwig that got him so upset now that he thought about it, but it was far too late to take anything back now. “No, _you_ listen to _me_.” The red eyed man ground out, words dripping from his tongue like acid as he got up in the Italian’s face. “I’ve kept Francis and Antonio alive for three months, okay? I’ve done things I’m not proud of and never will be, but for fucks sake Lovino! They’re already dead; that makes them no different than any of the walkers falling over themselves outside!” He exclaimed. “If you’re really this fucking weak, then I guess it was a mistake to bring you along. All you’ve done is question everything I say and make yourself into a fucking liability. I never should have let Antonio talk me into keeping you around.” 

This wasn’t something Lovino was hearing for the first time in his life. There had been multiple people before this all began that had told him something of the same sort, always angry at him and his flaws. Well, you know what? Fuck this. “Fuck you.” He spat at Gilbert, ripping the albino’s hands from his shirt. “We don’t have time for this shit. Let’s just get Peter and-“

A shrill scream ripped through the air just as he was about to suggest they take Peter and bring him back to the apartment empty handed, the sound ringing in his ears and echoing around the store. That scream didn’t come from outside like he hoped it had; no, the sound was too close for it to have come from anywhere but inside, and that could only mean one thing.

The shout of terror had come from Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite happy with this chapter but I'm posting it before I can second guess myself because I feel bad for not updating in so long slkfjs  
> 


	7. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad decisions lead to outcomes Lovino and Gilbert hadn't planned on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WhoA another chapter! I'm updating a lot sooner than I usually do bc I've been in a writing mood lately

Peter’s scream echoed through the store, bouncing off the walls and hitting Lovino with such a ferocity that he was surprised it didn’t bring him to his knees.

Out of all the sounds he heard in the past few months, the scream of a living child was more terrifying than any of the groans the walkers made.

“SHIT!” Gilbert swore, ripping himself away from Lovino and sprinting over to where he told Peter to wait, the child’s scream still bouncing around in his head as he skidded to a halt at the end of the aisle.

By the time Lovino forced his legs to bring him over to where Gilbert stood stock still at the end of the aisle, he sorely wished he had kept Peter with them and discussed what they were going to do with him around. He would have done anything to prevent having to see what he was witnessing now.

Instead of the door to the storage room being closed like he knew it had been moments before, it was thrown wide open, the stench of death and decay billowing into the store like smoke from the tiny space. If he had any hopes that Peter’s parents were still alive, they all but dissolved as he watched the hulking form of a blonde man who had to be well over six feet stumble out, body thick with muscle and glasses broken and barely staying on his bloodied face as he groaned in a mix of pain and hunger. Those foggy blue eyes scanned the room before they locked onto Gilbert with a kind of sharp focus that sent Lovino’s heart pounding.

The sight of the hulking man ambling out of the room and taking notice of the three living people in the room wasn’t what had him frozen to the spot, however. 

“ _PETER!_ ” Lovino screamed, ignoring the hulking walker studying them and rushing toward the little boy who was stuck writhing under the mass of another blonde man a few feet away from the door, this one significantly shorter and a bit more motherly looking than the other one that had come out after it as it used its weight to hold the trembling kid down. 

“M-Mama!” Peter cried, pounding his tiny fists uselessly against the chest of who Lovino had to assume was once his parent as he thrashed to get free. “Mama, no, what- _don’t! MA-_ ” A wailing screech left Peter as the blonde man on top of him leaned down and sunk its teeth into the kids arm just as he threw it out in front of his face to protect himself, blood smearing across the older man’s lips as he locked his jaw and made a noise that sounded a lot more like agony than hunger. 

Almost as if it pained the walker to take a chunk out of his son.

“NO!” Lovino shouted, acting without thinking as he surged forward and brought his knife down to the hilt into the junction of the walker’s pale neck and shoulder, tearing it out with a cry as he kicked the bloody man off Peter and jumped on it before it could get back up, straddling its torso as it gurgled weakly at him. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Peter was supposed to come back with them and survive. He was supposed to be there with them when he finally reunited with Feliciano and made it to Marina. He was supposed to be safe and stay innocent.

He was supposed to live.

“God fucking _dammit!_ ” Lovino howled in a fit of rage, bringing the knife down again and again as he cried out, the doe like foggy violet orbs framed by blonde lashes staring back up at him only fueling his anger.  


Peter’s wide eyes watched his every move, witnessing every harsh stab he inflicted on the walker, stunned silent where he lay stone still on the ground beside his dead mother.

Why did this have to happen to someone as young as him? It just wasn’t fair, and as Lovino finally brought his knife down between the walker’s eyes and felt its body give a few jolts under him before going limp, he realized that he would have given anything to save the kid, anything to keep him from seeing what was happening now. Hell, he was already bitten and yet here he was, killing the kid’s parents right in front of him to add insult to injury. Any innocence Peter had before they showed up was all but gone now and Lovino had only himself to blame.

No one deserved this, least of all Peter. 

“Motherfucker!” Gilbert bellowed from where he was wrestling to get out of the hold of the taller of the two blonde walkers, this particular man towering over the albino as Gilbert inflicted as much damage to the walker with his fists as he could in an attempt to get free. With his crowbar on the ground, his body was the only weapon he had left. Especially with those strong hands like vices his shoulders, dirtied and crusty fingernails attempting to scrape at the German man as the bespectacled walker snapped its jaw at him, frustrated that Gilbert was fighting back.

Even if that particular walker wasn’t the size of a tree, Lovino knew it would be a difficult task to get Gilbert out of his clutches. Walkers were surprisingly strong when it came to holding their prey hostage.

The red eyed man wouldn’t be able to get out of its grip on his own. The fact that Lovino had taken down the shorter walker only seemed to fuel the taller one to try even harder to bite Gilbert, its snarling and gurgling rising in volume until Lovino thought for sure it would start screaming.

He couldn’t shake the thought that the walker was upset about the state of its spouse, as ridiculous as it was.

“Duck!” Lovino called out, leaving the mutilated body he had been attacking behind as he charged at the two of them and burrowed his knife into the tall walker’s eye as soon as Gilbert leaned to the side as much as he could at the last second, Peter’s horrified screech for his Papa ringing in his ears as he brought down the second monster that had ruined the child’s chances of survival.

Parents or not, Lovino was going to make them pay for ruining whatever future Peter could have had. It was like a fire had been lit inside of him, the burning he felt for revenge pumping through his body filling him with such energy that he couldn't stop himself from taking it out on the being that destroyed everything.

He yanked the knife out in a blind rage and paid no mind to the blood that smeared across his cheeks and down his shirt or the chunks that came out with the blade, solely focused on revenge as he followed the giant down. Gilbert was paid no mind as the red eyed man quickly put space between himself and the walker as Lovino impaled the blonde giant until his muscles screamed at him to stop, his mind only focused on one thing.

What if Peter had been Feliciano? What if he ran into a group of walkers and there hadn’t been anyone around to help him?

The thought was enough to make him abruptly pause in brutalizing the corpse and lean over the body beneath him to empty his stomach onto the bloody tile, bile mixing with chunks of flesh and other things he wished he wasn’t so used to seeing.

When nothing but his own panting echoed off the walls of the pharmacy and the taste of stomach acid lingered on his tongue, Lovino wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and felt himself slowly come down from his high only to crash straight into the ground.

Oh God. What had he done?

“Peter,” He whispered in a rush of realization, scrambling up from where he had been kneeling beside the tall blonde walker and stumbling over to the little boy who was staring up at him with eyes full of such crushing terror and grief that Lovino swore he would have thrown up again at the sight had he still had anything in his stomach. As it was, all he could do was force down the urge to dry heave when his eyes drifted from those horrified grassy orbs down to the raw looking bite mark adorning Peter’s right forearm, blood steadily oozing from the crescent shaped marks despite how badly he wished it hadn’t been a strong enough bite to bleed.

Red was a color he wished he never had to see again.

“Peter, I- I don’t…” He stammered desperately, the stains proving what he had done not even minutes ago staining his clothes suddenly weighing him down like stones stacked on his chest and shoulders.  


Fuck the crates of food and fuck whatever else Gilbert thought they could get out of that little room. None of it was worth this, but it was too late to regret what their decisions led to.

“Lovino.” Gilbert’s voice sounded from behind him, strong but weary in a way Lovino had never heard it before. The red eyed man hesitated a moment, sparing a glance down at Peter and letting out a sigh that made him sound much older than he was. “He’s been bitten.”

“I know.” Lovino choked.

“He only has twelve hours-“

“Would you _shut the fuck up_?” Lovino hissed, only one crack away from breaking down right there in the middle of the pharmacy covered in the blood of the parents of the boy in front of him. “Let me think for a second,” he blurted in a rush, covering his face with his bloodied hands as he fought through the haze in his mind to come up with a solution he never dared to try and think about before, effectively smudging foul smelling blood across his cheeks in the process.

Once people were bitten, they were goners. He knew that, Gilbert knew that. The only one who didn’t was Peter.

There had to be a way around it. There just had to be. “We have 12 hours to figure something out,” He suggested a tad hysterically, forcing himself to overlook how Peter was staring at the bloody corpses of what used to be his parents, the tears he had been too shocked to shed earlier now running freely down his traumatized face. 

“There isn’t a way, Lovino. You know that.” Gilbert reminded him gently in a gruff voice that did nothing to soothe Lovino of the soul consuming guilt and despair he felt. “If there was a way, there wouldn’t be any of those biting assholes out there and we wouldn’t be living the way we are.”

Never in his past few days of knowing the three other survivors would he ever think that he would wish that Antonio was there with his soft words and kind green eyes, assuring him everything would be alright. Gilbert was as far from the Spaniard as he could get, practically the complete opposite of the man he had grudgingly become used to, much to his previous annoyance.

Lovino didn’t move a muscle when Gilbert placed a hand on his shoulder and moved past him to kneel in front of Peter, the air around them thick with the promise of what was inevitable. “Why did you open the door, Peter?” Gilbert asked softly, pointedly not looking at the brutalized body of the violet eyed man beside them. 

Slowly raising his gaze from the corpse of his Mama to meet the carefully blank ones of Gilbert, Peter found himself shaking with a flurry of emotions he couldn’t control, couldn’t comprehend after what he had just seen. “…Y-you… you promised…” He muttered, breath coming increasingly quicker the more he spoke. “You promised not to hurt us,” He reached out and grabbed the hand of the body beside him, giving the cold and pale fingers a squeeze tight enough that had the man been alive, he probably would have bruised. “You…”

Lovino couldn’t take this any longer. “I-I’m so sorry Peter, I… I’m so sorry this happened,” He finally broke down, choking on the tears that he gave up fighting against as he dropped his knife, ignoring the sticky feeling of blood caking his hands and sleeves. The hopelessness he felt as he stared down at the bitten boy through blurry eyes was staggering, forcing the air in his lungs to leave his body in a rush.

At that point, what did it matter if Gilbert saw him break down?

Peter immediately scurried back to get away from Lovino when the clang of his knife hitting the ground met his ears, his face a mask of complete horror and agony. “Mama… I-I heard Mama so I….” He stuttered, wide eyes taking in the bodies of his parents, no doubt slowly going through the painful process of coming to terms with what happened. “I… I opened the door…”

Lovino squeezed his eyes shut and tried to take a calming breath.

“…It sounded like he… like he was crying,” Peter whispered, his face deathly pale as he just sat there, unable to move. “I hate it when he cries.”

Lovino gave up on keeping calm when Peter admitted to opening the door because he thought he heard his mother crying. It was such a childish thing to do, yet he could never fault the kid for doing it. It was instinct, the need to make sure your parents were alright despite the circumstances innate in every living person. 

“Lovino…” Gilbert murmured, his voice quiet and final as he glanced between the Italian and the boy on the ground. 

The Italian knew what that tone meant, and he knew what they had to do. After what he had already done to ruin this child in the little time they had known him, he couldn’t leave him to become like those mindless fuckers outside. It was entirely their fault that this had to happen. If they hadn’t overlooked how immature and _young_ Peter was, maybe he wouldn’t have opened the door with the naïve hope that his parents were still alive.  


No. He knew what had to be done. Still… “I can’t, I-I can’t, Gilbert, I can’t do it,” Lovino choked out, unable to look at the boy he failed as he heard Gilbert sigh and pick up his crowbar from where he had dropped it in surprise when the tall bespectacled walker grabbed him.

There was only one mercy they could show Peter. 

“Then don’t look. You won’t want to see this.”

-

By the time they made it back to the apartment, the sun was setting and the chill of night was descending upon them. It was a welcome change from the blistering heat of the daytime, but Lovino couldn’t feel it.  


He couldn’t feel anything. 

The sky was peppered with pinks and purples, the gorgeous sight almost ironic considering it was blessing such a fucked up world with its beauty. The only good thing about it was the sun was still high enough in the sky to cast just the right amount of light to guide Lovino and Gilbert back. 

Judging by the state of the apartment by the time they got back, it seemed Antonino and Francis had been preparing to go after them if they hadn’t come back when they did.

“Lovino! Gilbert!” Antonio exclaimed as he watched the bloodied forms of his friends come through the window, racing toward them from where he had been sitting beside Francis on the couch packing his backpack, anxiously awaiting their return. They no doubt made a sight; the blood smeared across his face and splattered over his clothes probably made him look like some crazed lunatic, and combined with the way Gilbert looked naturally, they most likely looked anything but okay.

“Why are you so late? Are you okay?!” The Spaniard fired off one question after another in that concerned accented voice of his, quickly raking his gaze up and down the both of them to check for injuries beyond the blood smattering their clothing and staining their skin. 

Lovino didn’t respond, staring at the ground instead of meeting the concerned eyes of the man in front of him. Here he was, finally in the presence of the one he grudgingly craved comfort from earlier, and he couldn’t even lift his gaze up.

Pathetic.

“Lovino, you’re bleeding!” He heard Antonio gasp as hands gently landed on his shoulders and began to push him toward what he assumed was the bathroom; he couldn’t tell without looking up, and there was no way he could look Antonio in the eye after what happened. Seeing his emerald orbs would be too much too soon. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” He continued to ramble as he slipped the backpack off Lovino’s shoulders and allowed it to fall to the ground without a care. “Gilbert, you’re not hurt, right?”

He assumed Gilbert shook his head because Antonio didn’t let up on his pushing.

Was he even really bleeding? Lovino didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to argue. Not when he was finally in the presence of the man he had been wishing for back in the pharmacy.

The pharmacy.

_Peter._

“Would you mind sitting on the counter so it’s easier for me to clean your knee?” Antonio’s soft voice pulled him from his thoughts and forced him into the present. When had they made it to the bathroom?

Wordlessly Lovino propped himself up on the counter and let his legs dangle numbly off the edge as he watched Antonio search under the sink for the first aid kit he knew was under there, his broad shoulders in his line of vision as he let his arms hang limply by his sides. 

If his current state of unresponsiveness bothered Antonio, the man didn’t show it. In fact, all it seemed to do was prompt him to fill the silence.

“Your knee doesn’t look too bad. I have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected though.” Antonio told him softly as he located the first aid box and pulled it up onto the counter, popping it open and taking out what he would need. 

To be honest, Lovino hadn’t even realized he was hurt in the first place, and with the amount of blood caking his clothes, he was surprised Antonio could even pick it out. 

“Would you be more comfortable if I took these off? It would be easier to get to the wound.” Antonio asked carefully as he gave a pointed look to the wrecked skinny jeans that Lovino was wearing, a glance the Italian completely missed as the other’s voice met his ears.

The Spaniard sounded like he was talking to something that would break if he was too forceful.

Silence shrouded them as a tense atmosphere filled the room. The longer Lovino went without giving any kind of response or even looking up from his lap, the more Antonio grew worried. “…Lovi, are you hurt somewhere else?” He whispered carefully, unsure of where to put his hands as he finally came to the decision to just place them on the boy’s upper arms, his grip as gentle and tender as his words. 

It seemed like an eternity before Lovino shook his head, just a miniscule movement but enough to make relief hit Antonio like a wave crashing down on his shoulders. “Oh, thank God. I was worried you were hurt somewhere else.” He sighed as he slowly let go of the man in front of him to begin pouring hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton swab. 

Lovino didn’t need to ask to figure out what Antonio meant. ‘I’m glad you aren’t bitten’ was what the man was really meaning to say, and the Italian knew it. 

When Lovino didn’t give him permission to take his pants off in order to get to the wound, Antonio realized he was going to have to do it the hard way. Peeling the pieces of denim away from the crusting blood and grime that was keeping it stuck to his skin to get at the wound, he sighed at the sight of the scrape and inspected it for a few seconds. “This is going to hurt. You can put your hands on my shoulders if you need to hold something.” He offered as he chanced a glance up at the unresponsive man before pressing the swab to the cut on his knee.

The hiss that forced itself from between Lovino’s teeth was louder than the Italian intended for it to be, the shock of blinding pain jarring him from his stupor and forcing him back into the hell on earth they called reality. 

“Lo siento, I know it hurts.” Antonio murmured sympathetically as he cleaned the gash as quickly and thoroughly as he could, unwilling to drag this out more than he had to. “This is deeper than I thought it was but luckily you don’t need stitches, which is good. I don’t know if giving you stitches right now would be a good idea. The possibility for infection would be too high.” 

Lovino stopped listening to the words the man doting on him was saying the moment he felt that pain and stared down at his leg, eyes focused on the red staining the cotton swab Antonio was using to sterilize his wound. It was the same shade as the blood that ran down Peter’s arm after he was bitten, his hair a wild mess and innocent eyes blown wide in terror that had no right to be on someone so young.

The blood was a reminder that burned the back of his eyes, those green orbs etched into his memory forever.

“-vino? Are you okay?” The sound of his name being called so softly forced him back to the present, glancing up at the Spaniard on reflex and promptly regretting doing so.

Not only were those gentle eyes looking at him, but they were the same shade as Peter’s. It was almost too easy to picture them stricken with horror and grief like the child’s had been, the light in them going out like a snuffed light. 

Nausea settled in his gut before he had time to differentiate the two in his mind, his body lurching forward without his permission in an effort to expel what wasn’t in his stomach to begin with. Dry heaving against Antonio as bile stung the back of his throat wasn’t what he wanted to do, but his body wouldn’t listen. 

Antonio, the fucking saint he was, just put his arm on Lovino’s back and gave him a few gentle pats, not moving even as the Italian burped and hacked in an effort to purge his stomach. “Shh… you’re okay Lovi, just let it all out.” He soothed, confused but comforting as the man seated on the counter trembled against him, his hands like vices on the man’s shoulders and forehead pressed against his chest. Each shudder that wracked Lovino’s trembling frame worried Antonio more and more, the vulnerable man in his arms so different from his usual strong self that he couldn’t help but wonder what happened to make someone so proud look so upset. Maybe he could ask Gilbert about it later.

After a few minutes of comforting the man who was heaving, Antonio wiped off a smudge of blood off the Italian’s face and wiped it on the cotton swab he had set off to the side. “I’m going to bandage your cut so it stays clean and then we can talk if you want, okay?” He murmured as he set about placing a bandage over the sterilized cut on Lovino’s knee, his heart hammering in his chest and his palms sweaty in nervousness. 

Lovino had never been this silent before. In the few days he had known him, he was always either complaining about something or occupying himself by doing something, whether it be cleaning his knife or wandering around the apartment. The hazel eyed man was always making some kind of noise, so his sudden silence was particularly worrying.

“Alright, you’re all patched up!” Antonio plastered on a grin as he gave Lovino a once over. “Your clothes are ruined though so I’ll get you some of my spares; you’ve got to be uncomfortable in those. I’ll be right back, okay?” When he didn’t get a response, he gave the Italian one last pat on his good knee before getting up and turning around to leave, letting the smile drop from his lips. Honestly, while the clothes were a good reason to leave the room, that wasn’t his goal. All he needed was a few minutes to pull himself together so he wouldn’t do or say anything wrong that would upset the auburn haired man. He had a bad habit of rambling without thinking when he was nervous, and that wasn’t something he wanted to do when the boy on the counter was in such a fragile state.

“…No.” The voice that reached his ears was nothing more than a whisper, barely audible but loud enough to make him pause before he even took a step out of the bathroom. Just the tone of Lovino’s voice was enough to let Antonio know that whatever happened was something serious. 

“Then I’ll stay.” He murmured in response, catching the gaze of the Italian as he made his way back over and stood in front of the silent man. “Would you be more comfortable if we moved to my room?” He inquired gently, frowning sadly when Lovino shook his head and tore his gaze away to stare down at his bloodied lap once more. 

Antonio hadn’t noticed it before, but the Italian’s hands were coated in blood. Blood from what he didn’t know, and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

When it became apparent that Lovino was only shutting down more and more as they conversed, Antonio finally couldn’t take it any longer. 

“Whatever happened, it’s alright.” Antonio murmured as he reached out and pulled the normally snarky man into his arms with the intent to console him. “You did what you had to do, and no one can blame you for it. Just please don’t shut me out, sí? I want to help you.”

There was a long stretch of silence in which Antonio was sure Lovino would shove him away and tell him to go away and leave him alone, but when the seconds ticked by and he didn’t feel any kind of rough treatment, he cradled the man against his chest and ignored the smell the boy was giving off. The scent of congealed blood combined with dirt and sweat from tumbling with walkers would never be an odor he could ever get used to.

“…He was so _young_ ,” Lovino whispered thickly against the warmth of Antonio’s shoulder, inhaling the Spaniard’s scent of dirt and sweat and something so earthy and undeniably _him_ that Lovino couldn’t help but cling to him to get more of it. Now wasn’t the time to be difficult and refuse comfort when he craved it so badly.

Antonio didn’t have to ask for elaboration after that one. He could take a guess as to what happened, and whatever he guessed, he was sure he wasn’t too far off from the truth. “I’m sorry you and Gilbert had to go through whatever happened. I wish I could have been there for you.” He sighed, running calloused hands up and down the Italian’s back, between his shoulder blades, down his spine and over his sides before making their way back up again. His touch seemed to relax Lovino at least a little bit if the way he sagged into his touch said anything. It was a tiny victory if nothing else.

That in itself was worrying, though. Lovino wasn’t the type of person to seek out comfort like this. He was like Gilbert in that respect, and Antonio was sure the German was out in the living room with Francis telling him what happened, burying his pain until he could work it out by himself when he was alone. 

That definitely seemed like something Lovino would do.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to. I’m sure Gilbert will tell me if I ask. Do… do you want me to know?” He asked carefully, wondering if Lovino would spill what happened now that he was being held.

Lovino only tightened his arms around those broad shoulders and reveled in their warmth, an action he would refuse to admit to doing later on. Still, he nodded his head and made sure the taller man couldn’t see his face as he did so. No one needed to know he was crying.

Overjoyed to get an answer from the man, Antonio let out a breath of relief and buried his face in Lovino’s neck in return, choosing not to mention the wet spots he could feel forming on the cotton of his worn out t-shirt. The dirt and flecks of blood on his neck and the tears on his shoulder were ignored as he focused on the heat the Italian’s skin was radiating against his cheek. 

Should that skin ever go cold, he didn’t know what he would do.

“Then we’ll go talk to Gilbert as soon as you’re ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about Peter


	8. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words are said and coping begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of happy with this chapter. Hope you enjoy!

Antonio wasn’t sure how long they stayed in the bathroom comforting one another. It could have been hours or it could have been minutes, but without a way to tell time other than the intervals between Lovino’s body shaking through silent sobs, he had no way of knowing for sure. 

What he _did_ know was after what felt like a lifetime, Lovino pulled away from his chest to reveal puffy eyes and an ashen face. It was quite a sight to see, certainly not one he wished he had to bear witness to. “Do you want to go lie down while I talk to Gilbert and Francis?” Antonio asked gently, pointedly not looking the Italian in the face to give him the small mercy of pretending like he hadn’t been sobbing mere minutes before. 

Lovino silently weighed his options as he extracted himself from Antonio’s hold, too exhausted to feel embarrassed about crying in front of the other man. If he went out in the living room to engage in conversation with the trio, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to handle it without breaking down. Gilbert had already seen him hit rock bottom in the pharmacy with Peter. He wasn’t keen on giving the albino any more leverage over him, as petty as it might sound. Of course Antonio would be there by his side the whole time, that much he knew, but it just wasn’t enough to entice him to subject himself to reliving what he’d just been through so soon. “I want to lie down.” Lovino whispered after a few moments, looking down at his hands that were itchy and crusted with blood. 

Antonio expected that sort of answer so he nodded and picked up the cotton swab he used to clean up the Italian’s knee earlier without complaint. “Okay. Just let me clean the rest of the blood off you and I’ll give you some of my spare clothes to rest in, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer this time, instead choosing to act as he reached out slowly and took one of Lovino’s hands, turning it over in his own as he began to scrub the flaking blood off his knuckles. 

Silence surrounded them once again as the Spaniard got to work removing the smudges of blood and dirt caked on Lovino’s skin, face set in a serious expression as he worked. The boy’s hands were so slender and delicate compared to his own calloused and slightly bigger ones, his fingers bony and beautiful despite the signs of struggling to survive that were painted across his skin and uneven nails. Come to think of it, everything about him seemed fragile. Sure he was capable of surviving, his presence in the bathroom only proved that fact, but Antonio couldn’t quite shake the urge to pull Lovino into his arms and shelter him.

He didn’t doubt the auburn haired man wouldn’t appreciate him voicing what he was thinking though, so instead of opening his mouth, he moved from his hands to his face, gently cupping Lovino’s cheek and dabbing a fresh cotton swab over his skin to rid him of the grime that was staining his complexion. He turned the boy’s face this way and that to make sure he cleaned him as thoroughly as possible, observing the way his eyelashes fluttered when the swab came close to his eye.

Those hazel eyes wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he pretended it didn’t bother him. Now wasn’t the time.

Antonio didn’t miss the slight flinch Lovino made when the swab came too close to a sore spot on his cheek but elected to pretend it didn’t happen as he finished cleaning him up, taking a little longer than it should have so he could be sure the Italian was as washed up as he could make him. “Well, you’re as clean as clean can be at a time like this.” He announced quietly, tossing the soiled cotton swabs into the little garbage can beside the toilet and straightening up before offering a hand to the boy who was still having trouble meeting his eyes. “Come on, let’s get you lying down.” He proposed with a smile, helping the Italian off the counter and looping an arm around his bony shoulder to help him walk. 

On any other day, Lovino would have shaken his arm off and given him a few choice words for being pitied, but he’d already been through so much that day that he just couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. Antonio seemed like he came to the same conclusion as well, if the way he tightened his arm around him when he wasn’t met with resistance and silently helped him out of the bathroom and down the hall was any indication. By the time they made it to the Spaniard’s room, Lovino was more than ready to be done for the night. 

Everything was just too much to deal with.

“My clothes might be a little big on you, so sorry about that.” Antonio apologized after he made sure Lovino was seated on his bed and wasn’t going anywhere. The man was still too quiet, though Antonio hoped he would be more like his usual self after some rest. “If you need anything, I’m right around the corner, okay? Don’t be afraid to call for me.” He rambled as he rifled through his drawers and pulled out a pair of blue cotton pajama pants and a white t-shirt with ‘Barcelona’ written across the chest in red lettering, not caring how much of a mess he made in the process of searching. 

Lovino watched Antonio flutter around his room in search of clothes and listened to him ramble, his accented voice filling the room with sound that he would never admit to finding comfort in. 

“I’ll leave you to change. Just put your clothes in the hamper by my desk and I’ll see what I can do about cleaning and fixing them up later on.” Antonio instructed as he handed Lovino his clothes and lingered for a moment once the Italian placed the pajamas in his lap and still refused to meet the Spaniard’s gaze.

Those green emeralds were too much for him to see right then.

When Lovino didn’t verbally respond, Antonio ran a hand back through his hair and gave the man a weak smile despite knowing he wouldn’t see it. “Sleep well, and if you need anything, don’t be afraid to call for me.” He repeated, lingering for a moment longer before turning and heading out the door, leaving it cracked just a bit so he could hear if Lovino decided he needed him for something. It was probably nothing but a waste of time considering how closed off the boy was insisting on being, but Antonio could hope.

As soon as the Spaniard was out of the room, Lovino wiped furiously at his eyes and ignored the sting of the sensitive flesh against his hands. To be honest, all he wanted to do was sleep away the memories of what happened to Peter and drown himself in unconsciousness, surrounded in the familiar scent of the Spaniard. It took him much longer than he would have liked to change into the spare clothes Antonio left him with his body sore and mind exhausted, but once he did, he couldn’t deny the soft fabric caressing his skin made him feel at least a fraction better. 

The pajamas were light and well loved, the little hole in the left armpit letting him know just how used these articles of clothing were. They were so much like their owner that Lovino couldn’t help but sniffle as he curled up under the sheets and brought them up to his chin, sucking in a long breath to fill his senses with the scent of the green eyed man as he willed himself to wipe his mind of the horrors he’d seen that day and fall into the unforgiving grasp of sleep. 

-

Lingering outside the door for a few moments after he left the room, Antonio braced his hands on the wall behind him and let his head thump against the off white surface. The soft sound of sniffles filled the hallway as Lovino cried himself into exhaustion, the fact that he was upset enough to shed tears in the first place absolutely killing Antonio. 

It hurt just as much as knowing he couldn’t do anything more to help.

He had done all he could so his hands were essentially tied. If Lovino needed anything, he knew where to find him, and that was the best he could do for now.

Smothering the other boy would only make it harder to heal. He knew that all too well.

Tearing himself away from the door was a much harder task than he thought it would be, but Antonio managed after a few minutes. The hushed voices of Francis and Gilbert drifting into the hall from the living room called to him and his curiosity, forcing his feet to move as he made his way into the room and instantly felt two pairs of eyes land on him, their conversation coming to an abrupt halt.

“Antonio.” Gilbert greeted with a tired sigh from where he was hunched over on the couch, dirty elbows on dirtier knees as Francis stood off to the side with crossed arms and gave the German a sympathetic look.  


Gilbert looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his red eyes sporting bags that looked much worse than they had yesterday, which would have been impressive if it weren’t so worrying. Whatever he had been through was enough to make him look like one of the walkers outside and Antonio didn’t know how to bring up what happened without dredging up anything too painful.

“How’s Lovino?” Gilbert frowned, reading the hesitation on his friend’s face as Francis took a seat on the floor in front of the couch carefully, minding his wrist as he crossed his legs and motioned for Antonio to sit beside him. 

“He’s not good.” Antonio answered immediately, moving stiffly over to Francis and sitting a foot away from him as he pulled his knees up to his chest. “I cleaned him up and gave him some of my clothes to sleep in though so hopefully he’ll get some rest and feel a little better in the morning.”

The look of sympathy both of his friends gave him for what he said made Antonio’s skin crawl unpleasantly. “W-what?” He stuttered, glancing between Francis and Gilbert as he waited for an answer. 

Gilbert was the one who broke the silence, running a hand over his face and up into his dirty hair as he began to speak. “One night of sleep isn’t going to be enough.” He warned Antonio. “What we went through… it’s going to take a long time to heal. At least for him, it will.” 

Antonio gulped at the seriousness in Gilbert’s voice, not liking the knowing look Francis was giving him. “What do you mean? What happened?” 

Francis pursed his lips and gave a look to the albino man to encourage him to explain, already knowing most of the story and not willing to break the news to Antonio. 

A look of utter exhaustion crossed Gilbert’s face as he slouched against the couch even more, preparing himself to retell the story of what happened less than two hours ago. “Before I start, you have to promise me that you won’t freak out.” He cautioned, staring at Antonio the whole time with a no nonsense tone that had the Spaniard more anxious than before. 

Apparently his expression betrayed his thoughts because Francis quickly gave him one of his famous looks, one that meant he was being completely serious and whatever he was about to say shouldn’t be written off as anything but absolute. “Antonio, he’s serious. Don’t make any rash decisions, okay?” Francis cautioned him softly, reaching over and giving him a gentle pat on the arm to get his attention. 

Whatever Gilbert was going to say, Antonio immediately realized he wasn’t going to like it. “Yeah, okay, I won’t.” He promised a little shakily, willing to say anything to finally find out what happened to his friends.  


Gilbert waited a moment before he broke the silence. “Lovino and I made it to the pharmacy, the one at the end of town. That little one we used to pass on the way to school. I’m sure you can tell we made it from the state of our backpacks.” He sighed, pausing to take a deep breath. “There were whole crates of food in there that weren’t stocked on the shelves yet, but they were too big for us to carry all the way back here. We took some apart and stuffed what we needed into our backpacks and left the rest there.”

Antonio was starting to get tired of the vague way Gilbert was speaking, so he frowned and let his impatience leak into his words. “What happened, Gilbert?”

The German gave Antonio a sharp look and frowned at him before deciding to just get straight to the point. There was no use beating around the bush with him anyway. “We found a little boy holed up in the store, about 8 or 9 years old. He wasn’t turned. His parents were locked in the storage room and he wouldn’t open the door. Said his Mama told him not to because they were hurt, so he made sure there was enough food for them when they were ‘all better.’” 

Antonio gnawed on his lower lip, not liking where this was going.

“I offered to go check on his parents because he mentioned there were crates of food in the room they were suck in. The kid… he opened the door when Lovino and I weren’t paying attention, convinced he heard his Mama crying.” Gilbert paused as he sent a glance over to Francis, giving him a nod to let him know that Antonio probably wasn’t going to take what he was going to say next very well. “As you can probably guess, his parents were walkers. The shorter blonde man attacked Peter and bit him. Lovino… he went into a fit of rage and killed the one that jumped on the kid. He ended up taking out the taller walker that attacked me, too.” Gilbert paused to gauge Antonio’s reaction before continuing. 

“Remember what you promised.” Francis reminded him, taking in the Spaniard’s blank expression as he reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Lovino saved me, Antonio. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t know if I’d be here if he hadn’t driven his knife into that walker’s eye. That thing was fucking strong.” Gilbert convinced his friend, looking as if it caused him actual pain to say those words. “…I owe him one.”

A few beats of silence went by before Antonio found his voice around the lump in his throat. “And the boy? What about Peter?” He asked in a strangled voice.

Both Francis and Gilbert had to look away for a moment. “…I killed him.” Gilbert whispered, voice steady but laced with a guilt that visibly settled on his shoulders, forcing him to slouch under the weight. “He would have turned if I hadn’t. We couldn’t let him become like his parents, not after what he’d already been through.”

The tight lipped expression on Antonio’s face was enough to shut Gilbert up for the moment, letting everything he said sink in before trying to give him the rest of the story. He knew all about the soft spot the Spaniard had for both children and the Italian resting in the room down the hall, so he had no doubt this was hard for him to take in. 

“Lovino was the one who killed his parents?” Antonio asked evenly after a minute, eyes unwaveringly trained on Gilbert as he spoke. 

“Yes.”

“Did he see Peter get killed?”

“No.”

Antonio paused. “He’s not going on any more runs. He stays here with me from now on.”

Francis and Gilbert both knew Antonio would react like this. While he had been cleaning up Lovino in the bathroom, they came up with a backup plan in case the Spaniard became too unstable to continue hearing about what happened. They would only put the plan in motion if it became clear that Antonio wasn’t going to calm down no matter what they did, so as they waited for him to inevitably freak out, Gilbert kept his fists by his sides in preparation for what they might have to do.

“Antonio-” Gilbert started.

“No, Gilbert. You can’t talk me out of this. He’s… you didn’t see him in the bathroom. He can’t handle this kind of thing!” Antonio argued, fighting to keep his voice down through the mental images Gilbert’s story gave him. Alerting Lovino to what they were talking about wouldn’t do any good, but having to picture the man going through something so traumatizing absolutely broke Antonio. “He’s keeping everything bottled up and it’s going to kill him if he keeps going out there with you!”

It wasn’t like any of them were spared from situations like the one his friend and Lovino had just been through. There wasn’t any kind of luxury like that and there probably never would be again, but the knowledge that the Italian had to see a _child_ be killed was too much. Gilbert was strong; he could handle the burden of having Peter’s death on his hands, as much as Antonio wished the kid didn’t have to die in the first place. 

But Lovino wasn’t strong like Gilbert.

“Antonio…” Francis cautioned.

“No!” Antonio interrupted. “He can’t, Francis. He can’t.” 

“That’s not your decision.” Gilbert said after a few moments of studying the look on Antonio’s face, weighing his options and deciding whether it was a safe move to continue arguing with the green eyed Spaniard or let him believe he won if only to keep him calm.

“You’re right; it’s _my_ decision.” A cold voice sounded from the hall, all eyes instantly snapping toward the Italian who was leaning against the wall behind the couch, face devoid of emotion but voice full of contempt.

Antonio was instantly on his feet. “Lovi-“

“Don’t you fucking ‘Lovi’ me, Skittles.” Lovino snarled, trading his vacant look for a fierce mask of fury. “It’s no one’s decision where I go or what I do. Yes something bad happened and yes it wouldn’t have happened if we hadn’t done what we did, but you have no right to tell me what to do. And by the way, you three are so fucking loud I wouldn’t be surprised if a horde of walkers come banging down the door any second now.”

The moment Antonio realized Lovino was trading his apathy and silence for anger, he knew this argument was a lost cause. There was no talking sense into someone who was using their outrage for a mask to cover up their guilt and hurt. 

At least he was showing emotion now, though. As much as he hated seeing the other boy upset, he would rather see him like this than the emotionless husk of himself he was earlier.  
“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Antonio hastily apologized, wanting to end this argument before it began. “I don’t have the right to tell you what to do. I’m just trying to look out for you.” He held his hands out in front of him in a placating gesture, praying that Lovino would just take his apology and go back to resting.

It was a vain hope considering who he was dealing with.

“I don’t need anyone looking out for me. Gilbert can attest to that.” Lovino frowned, posture still rigid enough to let Antonio know he was still in trouble but voice somewhat softer now that he had an apology.

Antonio strongly disagreed with that statement but he knew when it was time to just give in and let Lovino believe what he wanted. “Sorry.” He mumbled halfheartedly, not truly meaning it. Looking out for Lovino would never be something he would apologize for nor would he ever regret.

“I think it would be best if you all went to bed,” Francis spoke up when it became clear that Antonio wanted to say more but wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to speak up quite yet. “It’s been a long day for all of us, so I’ll take first watch. Get some rest and we can talk about things tomorrow when everyone’s in a better mood.”

After that, a sort of exhausted silence filled the room. No one could deny that Francis’s idea was a good one, especially with nighttime closing in on them. 

The less sound they made during the night, the less of a chance any of the walkers would hear them.

“Fine,” Lovino mumbled bitterly, giving everyone in the room a sour look before turning on his heel and stomping back out into the hallway toward Antonio’s room. 

As soon as his back disappeared around the corner, Gilbert huffed a weary sigh and turned his exhausted gaze to Antonio. “Don’t push him.” He warned the Spaniard before he could chase after the Italian. “He’s been through a lot today.”

Antonio could only imagine. After hearing what the two of them went through at the pharmacy, he had no doubt that both Lovino and Gilbert were going to be different for quite a while. Maybe they would never recover in the first place. “I know.” He whispered, still reeling from the events that just took place. Honestly, he should have known Lovino would bounce back and end up putting up his angry front. It was like a safety net for the man, and Antonio wouldn’t be the one to tear it away from him if it helped him heal. “I just… I don’t know what to do.” 

Francis offered him a soft smile, reaching over and patting his back gently. “Just be there for him. Don’t push him and don’t tell him what to do, but let him know you’re there. That’s all you can do.” He advised, expression tender as he regarded the emerald eyed man.

“That boy is so fucking stubborn.” Gilbert sighed. “But you were right, Antonio. He is a good fighter. Could do without the horrible attitude and sharp tongue though.”

Antonio knew that Gilbert admitting that Lovino was indeed a good fighter should have made him happy, but all he could think about was the man getting into more fights with walkers and putting himself in danger. “Yeah…” He muttered as Francis and Gilbert exchanged a look.

“Come on Toni, let’s get you to bed.” Francis coaxed him to stand up, offering him support just in case he needed it in the form of holding out his good hand to use as leverage.

“What about Gil?” Antonio questioned as he took the Frenchman’s hand and hauled himself up.

Francis cast a glance over at the red eyed German. “He’s going to bed, too. He has to keep his strength up for when we find Ludwig.” He announced, knowing that a surefire way to get Gilbert to do anything was to mention his brother. It was a sore subject for him but it never failed to keep him motivated. It was a trick the both of them had to use more than a couple times to keep the German from buckling under the pressure of keeping everyone alive, a burden he foolishly put on his shoulders alone.

“Fine, fine, I’m going to bed.” Gilbert caved in as he pushed himself up and regarded the two other men in the room. “If you need anything, you know where I am.” He announced as he turned to leave the room. It wouldn’t be like he would be able to sleep after what happened anyway, so being disturbed wouldn’t be as much of a nuisance as his friends probably thought it would be. 

Once Gilbert was on his way to his room, Francis helped guide Antonio down the hall toward his own room, stopping at the sight of the door being fully closed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in there.” Antonio whispered to Francis as he heard Gilbert rummaging through his drawers in the room across from them.

Antonio didn’t need to turn around to see that his door was closed as well. 

“It might not be a good idea, but I know you’re going in there anyway.” Francis whispered back. “He needs someone there for him. He’s been alone for three months, Antonio. That kind of isolation can mess with people.” Not to mention what he’d bore witness to that day.

Pursing his lips and turning to stare at the closed door to his room, Antonio nodded at Francis and gave a tentative knock on the wood. “Lovi?” He called out softly, waiting with baited breath for some kind of response. When none came, he knocked a second and then a third time, not sparing Francis a glance when he heard the Frenchman walk back into the living room to give them some privacy.

Just when he thought that maybe the man had fallen asleep, a muffled voice came from behind the wood. 

“It’s not locked, dumbshit.” After checking to make sure Lovino wasn’t lying, Antonio turned the knob and gently pushed open the door just enough to peek his head through. 

“Francis is on watch, so I’m going to head to bed.” He bit his lip. “…Do you need anything before I do?” Antonio offered one last time, allowing his eyes some time to become adjusted to the darkness of his room. As a general rule, they all kept their curtains drawn to discourage any other survivors or walkers from peering into their apartment and seeing them moving around, so the lack of moonlight in his bedroom made it that much harder to see. 

“No.” Lovino’s answer came short and to the point from where he was bundled up in blankets on the bed, refusing to so much as glance at Antonio and instead stubbornly kept his weary gaze on the ceiling.  


“Oh.” Antonio replied intelligently, faltering for something to say before finally coming to a split second decision. “Then I guess I’ll be down here if you need anything.” 

That got Lovino’s attention. “What are you talking about?” He inquired in a voice that betrayed just how confused he was, and with good reason. During the past few days he had been staying at their apartment, Antonio had been sleeping either in Francis’s room or the living room with whoever was on watch, not wanting to intrude on the little privacy he was able to give Lovino. 

Privacy hadn’t meant much to him before this, but now it was a blessing.

“You didn’t think I would leave you alone after hearing what happened, did you?” Antonio huffed, half offended that the Italian would think that of him and half understanding why he would. A scoff was all he earned for his troubles, but that was enough for him. “Don’t be afraid to wake me up if you need anything tonight.” He made sure to make his willingness to help out clear as he strode into the room with more confidence than he felt and took a pillow and ratty blanket out from the closet to throw on the floor a foot away from his bed. The floor wasn’t his first choice for a place to sleep, but something told him that suggesting he share the mattress with Lovino would only earn him new bruises or perhaps even scare the man off, which was something he wanted to avoid at all costs.

So instead of resting on his comfortable bed, he was stuck on the cold, hard floor.

Not that he was complaining. 

“…Are you seriously sleeping on the floor?” Lovino’s voice graced his ears as he pushed the edges of the blanket out and laid down on his back with a grunt, adjusting himself a bit so the wood wasn’t pressing against him too harshly. 

“Sí, I am.” That earned Antonio a string of mumbled words, most of which were too soft to pick out but he didn’t have to hear them to know they were most likely insults. “It’s not too bad, just in case you’re worried.”

Lovino didn’t even grace him with a response for that one. 

The silence was only interrupted by the subtle sound of Francis mulling around in the living room to keep himself awake surrounded them then, neither of the two men knowing what to say to break it. Their situation was a delicate one; one wrong move or slip up and everything would come crashing down around them, every wall they had built up around themselves breaking.

It was too much to expect Antonio to break it after everything he had already done, so Lovino did his best to block out the Spaniard’s presence from his mind and force himself to fall asleep.

The tense atmosphere was broken suddenly by him shifting under the sheets to turn around and face the window, the soft sound of fabric shifting gaining Antonio’s attention enough to turn and see what was happening.

Watching Lovino curl up in his bed and turn his back to him was difficult, but Antonio knew there was nothing he could do alleviate the pain the boy was feeling. Not right then, anyway. “…I’m sorry you had to go through this,” He whispered in the dark as he tore his gaze away from that slender back and focused on the cracked ceiling, finding it easier to speak openly like this at night when he didn’t have to see those pain ridden hazel eyes staring at him. “It wasn’t your fault.”

The speed in which Lovino whipped around to face him startled Antonio into jumping slightly. “You weren’t there, you don’t know what happened.” He growled, stunning hazel eyes shining with moisture in the slivers of light spilling into the room from the cracks in the curtains. He was the very picture of fury; one wrong move and he would explode, taking out everything around him.

Antonio realized if he wanted to get anywhere with this man, he had to choose his words carefully. “Gilbert told me what happened though, and he’s a fairly reliable source when it comes to things like this.” He spoke slowly and lightly, aware that Lovino could shut him out at any second. “Believe it or not, neither of you are to blame. It was just an example of circumstance that ended badly.”

“’An example of circumstance’? It must be nice living in such a delusional world.” Lovino sneered at him, willing himself not to care when Antonio’s expression shifted into one of hurt.

“I’m not delusional, Lovino.” Antonio frowned, curling up on his side so he was facing the man. “But call me whatever you want if it makes you feel better. I’m just trying to make you realize that what happened to Peter wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t Gilbert’s either.” He didn’t miss the flinch that Lovino made upon hearing the boy’s name. “I know what happens in this world and I’m not untouched by it either, you know. I just…” He faltered. “I just want you to realize that not everything that happens is your fault.”

Lovino was silent for a few moments. “You weren’t there.” He repeated more feebly this time, and Antonio knew he was finally getting somewhere with the man. 

“I wasn’t there but I don’t need to be to know you’re beating yourself up over something that you shouldn’t be.” Antonio murmured into the darkness of the room. What he wouldn’t give to just crawl into the bed with Lovino and hold him until he fell asleep. In an ideal world, that was what he would do. Cradle the breaking boy in his arms and hide him from the world, protecting him with everything he had. But this wasn’t an ideal world, so he could only do what he knew wouldn’t get him hit. “Please don’t do this to yourself. Getting worked up and doing something drastic will only make everything worse.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because Lovino shot up in bed, glaring down at Antonio with such a ferocity that the Spaniard found himself stunned. He knew the Italian had some pent up rage left in him over what happened and the situation they were in, but he had no idea it was this bad. 

“A fucking kid died because I demanded to talk to Gilbert about what we were going to do without Peter hearing us! He wandered off because I pushed him to! That’s pretty fucking drastic!” Lovino spat bitterly, through with being silent about this. How could Antonio not see his role in Peter’s death?

“That doesn’t mean you’re to blame for his death,” Antonio insisted. “The way Gilbert explained it, Peter made the decision to open the door himself. You didn’t tell him to open it.” Spurred on by Lovino’s silence, he continued. “Children are curious beings, Lovino. They have very little impulse control or reasoning when they’re intrigued by something, even if that something will hurt them.” 

That fire was back in Lovino’s eyes, and Antonio knew he had to act fast. “Anto-“

“No, listen to me. Even if you had been there, Peter probably would have opened the door anyway. He would have heard his parents and gone to see what was wrong with them regardless of your presence. It’s not your fault that this happened, and I know Feliciano wouldn’t blame you for it either.”

The sudden silence that hung in the air was so charged Antonio was convinced he was going to choke on it, but then Lovino did the unthinkable.

He surrendered. 

“Don’t bring him into this,” Lovino whispered in a voice so tired and weary that Antonio could feel his heart aching at the sound. Bringing Feliciano into this was a really low blow, whoever he was, but Lovino had left him with no other choice. All of the anger left the other man in a rush, leaving him completely and utterly exhausted to the bone on the mattress.

“I have to if you won’t listen to me any other way.” Antonio responded softly, truly regretting the fact that he had to resort to bringing up a man whose name brought Lovino such visible pain just to get him to listen. “But it’s true. Whoever he is… he wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up over this. He would want you to move on just like I do. Don’t let this ruin you.”

Lovino was silent for such a long time that Antonio would have bet that he had fallen asleep, the darkness of the room bathing him in shadows that made it hard for him to pick up on his face. In fact, if it weren’t for the soft sniffles he heard coming from the man up on the bed, he could have sworn he was alone in the room.


	9. Planning Isn't Easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gilbert makes a decision that could either keep them all safe or destroy himself.

Lovino had never been a morning person. Even before the world went to shit, he had trouble dragging himself out of bed at a reasonable hour, a trait he shared with his brother. The same couldn’t be said for now, though. Every tiny noise instantly pulled him from shallow dreams, his fight or flight response these days so strong that it was a daily presence. 

So when he found himself conscious with the sun climbing in the sky and those godawful curtains obstructing some of the light, he wasn’t sure what woke him at first. It could have been the pounding headache between his temples that could only come from a night of intense crying or it could have just as easily been the vicious rumbling of his stomach. Either way, he wasn’t too keen on moving as warmth surrounded him from all sides for once in such a long time. The blankets and arm covering him were too warm to want to do anything but go back to blissful unconsciousness-

Wait. Arm?

Forcing his sore eyes open to see what the fuck was keeping him so warm, Lovino nearly had a heart attack when he came face to face with a slumbering Antonio. Said heart nearly jumped into his throat as his gaze traveled across the man’s features without his permission, taking note of how dark his eyelashes were and the way they graced his cheekbones like tiny kisses, his soft lips parting with every soft breath. He could feel Antonio's warm breath on his skin, and he would be lying if he said it was unpleasant.

It was a complete mystery to Lovino how the man had ended up in his bed, and as he looked down, he took note of how Antonio wasn’t under the covers at all, instead resting above them on his side like he was trying to keep some semblance of space between them while having thrown an arm thrown over his waist.

The fact that Antonio was sleeping rather close beside him wasn’t as much of a concern as the fact that he had slept through the man climbing into bed with him. 

If he had been outside and a walker had come up to him, he would have been as good as dead.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath, feeling his head throb and his eyes sting from the crying session last night. Just thinking about what the other man was doing only added to his headache, so really, the only thing he could do was glare at the slumbering Spaniard, silently cursing him from waking him from his dreams and forcing him back into reality before he was ready. He wanted to shove him off the side of the bed and kick him out of the room, but Antonio’s words kept replaying themselves in his mind. 

_“It’s not your fault that this happened, and I know Feliciano wouldn’t blame you for it either.”_

Against his better judgement, Lovino felt himself calming down slightly even as his mood soured further, settling back against the bed and resisting the urge to pull the warmth of the other man closer just to comfort himself. It wasn’t fair how he could be lying there warm and protected while Peter was rotting in the pharmacy at the edge of town, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Hell, he had missed all of his chances to change the outcome, so it was entirely messed up how he was still alive. It wasn’t even like he really deserved to still be breathing. Peter would have had a better chance at living than him, considering his young age and the determination he saw in those grassy eyes. 

It should have been him that died in that pharmacy instead, Feliciano’s or anyone’s opinion be damned.

But just as his thoughts started to take a sharp and depressing turn, he felt the surprisingly heavy arm around his waist twitch and heard a groan leave the lips of the man sleeping beside him.  


“Mmph… Lovi?” Antonio’s sleep addled voice graced his ears, deep and rough in a way that gave away the few hours he managed to sleep last night. 

To be honest, Lovino wouldn’t have particularly minded going back to sleep had Antonio stayed unconscious. He was awake now though, so that wasn’t going to be possible. Especially when the situation at hand had to be dealt with. “Why the fuck are you in my bed?” He demanded immediately, ignoring the arm around him and the sense of protection it gave him. 

Now wasn’t the time to be feeling these things. 

“Hmm,” Antonio grumbled, clearly not liking having to be woken up. “You were crying last night when I came back from being on watch. Couldn’t stand hearing you so sad,” he mumbled sleepily, stifling a yawn as he blinked bleary eyes open, “So I crawled into bed and held you until you calmed down.” 

Despite the shadows still weighing down on his mind and settling in his stomach like boulders like last night, Lovino felt heat creeping up his neck and painting itself across his cheeks. “What gives you the right to-” A sudden creak from the doorway cut Lovino off as his attention switched from Antonio to Francis who was standing in the doorway, his jaw snapping shut with the realization that it wasn’t just him and Antonio in the room anymore. 

The Frenchman quickly took note of how the Spaniard was practically wrapped around him, much to Lovino’s discomfort. He couldn’t be sure, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of something cross the blonde man’s face that he couldn’t pinpoint, but right when he noticed it, it was gone and replaced with a smile.

“Ah. Good, you’re awake,” Francis crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, his gaze raking over Antonio more than Lovino as he spoke, specifically the arm that was thrown across his waist. “That saves me the trouble of waking you both up, then. Gilbert wants to call a group meeting in the living room.” He announced. 

At the mention of Gilbert, Antonio perked up slightly and turned to glance over his shoulder to take a peek at his friend. “Gil? How is he doing?” He asked in a rush, slurring slightly as the last traces of sleep left him. 

A soft grin graced Francis’s lips as he listened to Antonio slur his words. “You’ll have to ask him when you get yourself up and ready for the day, mon ami. I can’t speak for him.” He teased the man gently, his baby blue eyes flickering over to Lovino for a moment before he straightened back up and turned on his heel to leave the room, presumably heading back to the living room.

As soon as he let, Lovino swore the atmosphere in the room became lighter. “Get off of me.” He grumbled as soon as Francis was gone, eager to just get out of the room and away from the Spaniard that was making him think and feel things he wasn’t prepared for. 

A grumble was what he earned for that. “I don’t want to but I guess I should. Gilbert will drag us out if we don’t get up. He probably wants to talk about Marina, so he’ll definitely come barging in here,” Antonio sighed, pulling his arm away from Lovino and sluggishly rolling over off the side of the bed to stand on his feet, another yawn ripping through him. 

Far from wanting to deal with how watching Antonio stretch made his heart give a worrying flutter despite the depression weighing down on him, Lovino frowned and pushed himself off the bed and to his feet with the intention of walking past the other man and going into the living room to subject himself to whatever the hell Gilbert wanted to talk about. 

Or at least that was what he was aiming to do when an arm shot out and grabbed him by the wrist before he could make it past Antonio, halting his progress and causing him to stop dead in his tracks. The grip itself wasn’t more than a gentle tug, but the person behind it was enough to make Lovino stop. 

“How are you feeling?” Antonio’s gentle voice questioned him. He didn’t have to look over at the man to know he was giving him that irritatingly attentive look, the vivid emerald of his eyes tender and honest without him meaning for them to be. 

That was just how Antonio was, Lovino was coming to realize. Painfully earnest and caring, almost to a fault. 

“I’m fine.” He lied, pointedly keeping his gaze on the doorframe and not on Antonio. “Never been better actually, so you can let go of me now.” Lovino expected the man to let go immediately but was only mildly surprised to feel that hand squeeze his wrist firmly for a moment before falling away, letting him go. Antonio didn’t call him out on his lie even though he surely picked up on it, and for that, Lovino was grateful. He couldn’t talk about the weight of Peter’s passing and his brother’s disappearance quite yet and it would take a long time for him to be anything resembling okay, but he could at least put Antonio’s mind at ease.

The man deserved that much.

Antonio sighed in disappointment but let go of Lovino’s wrist, causing the Italian’s heart to jump into his throat. Was he really that easy to read? “We’ll talk about it later, then. Gilbert isn’t the most patient person.”  
Lovino knew that all too well. “I’m fine.” He insisted despite the look Antonio gave him for trying to keep up the lie. Antonio’s knowing eyes made his skin crawl as he felt himself being gently nudged toward the door. “Fine, fine, Jesus, calm down.” Lovino snapped at him, fed up with feeling like he was being coddled as he stomped through the doorway with Antonio right on his heels, making sure his presence was known well before they reached the living room. 

If he was going to subject himself to this shit, then he was going to make sure everyone knew how unhappy he was about it.

Both Francis and Gilbert tore their gazes away from each other and halted all conversation as soon as the rest of the apartment’s occupants came in. “So you finally decided to get up?” Gilbert asked Antonio with a half smirk, looking too tired to put his all into it. 

Lovino didn’t mention how the man didn’t bother turning the same question on him. He knew Gilbert was more than familiar with the reason behind himself sleeping in. 

Antonio nodded, clearly not noticing how he was the only one being addressed. “Francis woke us up.” 

Thank god Gilbert didn’t say anything about the ‘we’ part of the sentence or the fact that Lovino was essentially wearing Antonio’s clothes. He wasn’t sure he could handle all of that so soon after waking up.  


Gilbert leaned back against the couch and offered his friend a nonchalant shrug. “I asked him to. I didn’t want to take the risk of walking in there and seeing something I wouldn’t ever be able to forget, like Lovino decked out in your clothes. Your shirt is practically slipping off his shoulder.”

Goddammit.

Lovino scoffed and turned his head just in time to see Antonio fiddle with his hands in that nervous tick of his, the skin around his cheeks and ears slowly flushing as he realized what Gilbert was getting at.  


“G-Gilbert!” Antonio sputtered. The sound and sight of him looking so flustered would have been humorous if Lovino hadn’t been so fucking exhausted. 

Gilbert just waved his hand at Antonio as if to shrug him off. “Save it. Lovino and I had a successful haul last night, so I have the right to tease you a little bit. Especially after all the depressing shit we saw outside.”  


Lovino hunched into himself just a bit at the reminder of the things they’d seen, subtly wrapping his arms around his chest in a way he hoped didn’t look like he was hugging himself for comfort. 

“Speaking of that,” Gilbert muttered, taking a few seconds to meet everyone’s eye before continuing. “I have something I want to tell you guys.”

Francis turned his attention to Gilbert fully, tearing his gaze away from Antonio’s still slightly flushed face. 

“After what happened yesterday, I started thinking,” Gilbert began, taking note of the sudden drop in mood in the room. “We don’t have all the time in the world to wait around for something bad to happen. We’ve already been here for a while, so we should probably start thinking about stocking up for Marina, with or without Ludwig.”

Lovino watched the way Gilbert’s brows pinched together and his expression soured when he spoke of his brother, the weariness and resignation in his voice and eyes heartbreaking. His situation was one Lovino could sympathize with, and had he been in Gilbert’s position, he wasn’t sure what he would choose to do. Sacrifice his brother for the sake of the group or put everyone in danger to wait for him; both choices were difficult ones to make and each had consequences. 

They weren’t the only ones in the town, Gilbert had confirmed that with him earlier, so it made sense why he came to the conclusion that they should be preparing for leaving for Marina despite the absence of his brother. After so much time had passed, the chances of Ludwig being alive were slim to none. 

Feliciano was different, though. Lovino didn’t know about Ludwig, but his brother was fast. They both were, so he had no doubt Feliciano could outrun anyone, human or walker. 

Right?

“We’re not waiting here for Ludwig?” Antonio’s startled question interrupted Lovino’s thoughts, drawing him back into the conversation. 

Gilbert gnawed his lower lip before sighing and leaning his head back against the couch as if he didn’t even have the energy to keep it up any longer. With what he was proposing, Lovino didn’t blame him. “We’re not leaving right away, but we have to think of ourselves for a minute. It’s dangerous staying here for as long as we have. It’s a miracle nothing has found us yet, and I don’t intend on waiting around until anything does.” 

Gilbert had a point, but Lovino could see the shock in both Antonio’s and Francis’s eyes at the proposition. “So after everything, we’re just abandoning him?” Francis spoke up, looking almost sick as he stared at Gilbert in open astonishment. He knew that there were people around here other than them and that fact was probably a driving factor in Gilbert’s decision, but he could tell it wasn’t enough for the Frenchman. 

“Francis,” Gilbert closed his eyes and gathered his energy to respond. “I don’t want to leave, believe me. He’s my _brother_ , for fuck’s sake, but you know why we have to. It’s not safe here anymore.” 

That shut down any argument Francis seemed to have, his baby blue eyes suddenly looking so heavy that Lovino had to look away. 

“We can’t leave without him, Gilbert.” Antonio spoke up, voice calm as he stared at his two friends. “We’ve already done so much for him, so what’s a few more weeks? It’s not like the world can get any worse than it already is. Why can’t we just wait?”

Gilbert shook his head at the Spaniard. He couldn’t tell him that there were potentially dangerous survivors running around and competing with them for resources. “We’re not leaving right away, Toni. We still have to get supplies and make sure we’ll actually have enough to even have a chance of making it to Marina.”

Lovino could tell that Gilbert’s explanation didn’t ease Antonio at all, if the way the green eyed man glared at the albino was any indication. “Gilbert-“

“Do you remember the first day this place was affected?” Gilbert cut off Antonio. “I tried to call Ludwig, but he didn’t pick up. I called and called and called, but no one ever answered. His college was probably affected before our town was, and as tough as I know Ludwig is, without a group… I don’t know how long he’ll last. Hell, none of us aside from Lovino probably would have survived without at least one other person around. If you’re surrounded when you’re alone, even once,” Gilbert drew his finger across his neck with a carefully blank expression, “You’re done for.”

Suddenly, all Lovino could think about was Feliciano. Had he found a group to run with? Were they trustworthy people? Was he alone? Was his brother still even _alive?_

“He’s definitely still alive.” Antonio insisted, unintentionally answering the question Lovino was stressing about. “There’s no way he’s not okay. He’s a strong man, Gilbert. You of all people should know that.”  


Gilbert ran a hand over his face and up into his hair, gripping the strands as he fought to stay calm in the face of Antonio’s stubbornness. “That doesn’t change the fact that it’s not safe here anymore. There are more walkers in the streets at night now, so that means there’s more lurking around during the daytime than before. One wrong move and we could be surrounded.” Lovino noticed how he neglected to mention the living people that they were competing for food against, but he wasn’t about to be the one to tell Antonio. 

If Gilbert and Francis decided to keep the information from the Spaniard, then there had to be a reason.

“How far away is his college?” Lovino found himself asking before he could think to keep his mouth shut. His question seemed to take Gilbert off guard.

“About three hours north by car.” He replied, giving Lovino a calculating look. 

Lovino felt like he couldn’t breathe. That was about the distance Feliciano was when the walkers appeared, and if what Gilbert was saying was true, then his brother was dealing with these things long before he had his first encounter. 

“Why is that so important?” Gilbert inquired, the suspicious tone in his voice lost on Lovino who was struggling to come to terms with what that meant. He didn’t reply, but he could see Antonio stiffen beside him and give him a look that was so full of pity that he felt like simultaneously bursting into tears and punching something. 

“I’m looking for someone who’s near there.” Lovino admitted in a strangled breath, figuring it wouldn’t do anyone any good to keep this secret from them any longer. If they were waiting on someone from up north just like he was, then he supposed it made sense. He could see Antonio purse his lips and give him a worried look from the corner of his eye, almost as if asking him if he was alright. If he was going to finally share the whole story.

Gilbert and Francis were both as silent as Antonio before the Frenchman spoke up. “So you’re waiting on someone too?”

Lovino crossed his arms and hunched into himself a bit. “More like I’m supposed to go north and find them.” He confessed quietly. He was the one that was supposed to be going after Feliciano. It was his job to locate him and keep him safe, not linger around this apartment waiting for him to stumble across this place despite having no idea where it was. “I told you this already. I think Skittles is the only one who didn’t forget.

“Well, I’m sorry if it slipped my mind while trying to keep everyone alive.” Gilbert replied in a snarky tone, the bags under his eyes even worse than yesterday.

Lovino would bet all of his food rations that the albino hadn’t slept a wink last night. 

“Don’t be mean to him.” Antonio frowned at his friend as he came to Lovino’s defense. 

It would never stop confusing Lovino why the Spaniard was so adamant about defending him against every little thing he was capable of, but he wasn’t going to ask about it right now. Right then, he was still so wrapped up in his thoughts about Ludwig and Feliciano’s questionable existence that he couldn’t do more than just stare at Gilbert.

“Jesus Christ Antonio, calm down.” Gilbert sighed, giving the green eyed Spaniard a withering look that Lovino was sure wasn’t supposed to make Antonio sigh himself and look over at Francis. “Anyway, we’re not going anywhere today.” He concluded. “I’m too exhausted and I’m sure Lovino doesn’t want to go outside for a little bit so I thought we could take today to go over our plans for Marina and just… I don’t know, hang out?” He ended lamely, clearly not used to saying something as mundane as ‘hang out’. There was no need for that kind of laid back vocabulary anymore, so Lovino understood why it looked like Gilbert was uncomfortable. 

He also understood why Gilbert changed the topic so quickly. Lovino would have to be a fool to not catch the glistening in the albino’s eyes the longer he argued with Antonio about leaving his brother behind. Gilbert was a proud man- an asshole, yes, but a proud one- so he was willing to bed the red eyed man would do anything to appear strong in front of the group. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Francis cut in, waving his good hand to get everyone’s attention. “Are we really glossing over the fact that we’re _leaving Ludwig?_ ” 

Lovino could almost see Gilbert’s spirits crumbling under the realization that his tactic of switching the topic to something else that wasn’t his brother was an utter failure.

“We can’t just let him stay out here alone, Gilbert.” Antonio added, sending Francis a knowing look before turning his gaze to their friend. 

Lovino, in a rare show of mercy, decided to spare Gilbert the torture of hearing his brother’s name for the moment. “You said you thought Ludwig’s college was hit first. When did you realize this town was infected?” He cut in, his question immediately shutting up both Antonio and Francis. 

Gilbert turned his defeated red eyes to Lovino, silently thanking him for getting his friends to shut up before he broke down. He wasn’t dumb; he recognized the out the Italian was giving him. “I was in school when it happened here.” He began, a faraway look in his eyes as he recalled what he had seen. “I was in the back of the class staring out the window as the teacher droned on, counting cars instead of paying attention to whatever trigonometry equation Mrs. Carlson was squawking about.” There was a momentary silence as Francis and Antonio silently looked at each other, clearly having heard this story before. “So there I was counting cars, bored out of my mind, when there was an accident outside the window. It wasn’t anything too bad, just a simple case of rear ending one another. I was on the second floor so I couldn’t see the driver’s face but I could see the way he stumbled out of his car and lunged at the man he hit. The way he moved was so wrong, like he was some kind of animal. I knew something wasn’t right the second I saw that so I used an upset stomach as an excuse to leave class and rushed there. No one else in class saw what happened outside as far as I saw. But anyway, I rushed here and told him everything that happened.” Gilbert made a halfhearted gesture at Francis to indicate he was the one he told. 

“I was out of class already.” Francis explained, pushing the Ludwig topic aside for the moment as Antonio looked off to the side. 

“Anyway,” Gilbert cut him off before anyone could take the momentary silence to bring up his brother, “I had just made it inside when the school sent out an alert telling all its students to stay inside and avoid going near the windows. No one really seemed to know what was going on except that the infection seemed to be coming from the north, or at least that’s where the trail of destruction originated.”

“I got that message too. I was napping though so I didn’t see it until I woke up.” Antonio added a little uneasily. “I didn’t get any more messages after that.”

Lovino was no stranger to that. He had tried to call his brother as soon as he realized what was happening only to be met with a static noise on the other end. The phone lines had gone down quicker than he thought they would and it seemed he wasn’t the only one who had been affected. 

“So you weren’t here when this started?” Lovino asked the Spaniard curiously, the way the other man visibly hunched into himself when Gilbert mentioned coming back from his class and seeing Francis tipping him off that something about what he was asking made him uncomfortable.

“No. I wasn’t.” Antonio said as he chewed his bottom lip. “I… I came back here after it started.”

Perhaps against his better judgement, Lovino opened his mouth. “So where were you when it started?” He asked in a carefully bored tone, unwilling to let his curiosity show but accidentally letting his hostility over the confused feelings the Spaniard was making him experience show through. He instantly regretted it when Antonio’s shoulders tensed and his face hardened, memories no doubt replaying themselves in his mind. It was a painful sight to watch no matter how much he assured himself that he didn’t care.

“Don’t push him with questions like that.” Gilbert growled, eyes hard as he stared at Lovino in distaste. The anger was practically rolling off the German in waves, forcing him to cross his arms with a huff to hide the sudden worry he felt. It wasn’t like he meant to bring up bad memories or anything; he was honestly just curious and still tense from last night. 

“Don’t bully him, Gilbert.” Antonio’s voice had both Lovino and Gilbert snapping their attention back toward him, both relieved that he at least hadn’t become too lost in thought. “But to answer your question, I was… I was home when it happened.” 

Lovino remained silent as he let that information sink in. So Antonio had been home when the infection spread to this town, but where exactly was home for him? “So-” 

“Don’t.” Gilbert snapped at him, stopping him from finishing his sentence. The look on Antonio’s face told him all he needed to know, so he didn’t disobey the albino.

He didn’t need an explanation to know what an expression of loss looked like.

“That’s why I’m not leaving without Ludwig,” Antonio muttered, his soft voice almost like a shout in the room. “You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t do everything you can to meet back up with him. This is your only chance.” 

Francis reached out and placed a hand on the Spaniard’s knee in consolation, no doubt knowing exactly what happened to make the cheery man so broken looking all of a sudden. It made Lovino’s gut twist uncomfortably to know the other two knew what happened but he didn’t. Then again, he was aware that Antonio didn’t owe him any explanation, but his stomach didn’t seem to know that. 

“Antonio…” Gilbert whispered, guilt clouding his eyes as he gnawed his lower lip and regarded his friend with such a heavy look that Lovino found himself unable to bear witness to it. “You might not think so, but I stayed up all night thinking about this, turning the idea over in my head and planning out every possible outcome. The likelihood of him being alive after so long… it’s not good.” He whispered, unable to take the deep gaze of those searching emeralds as he looked away. “I understand why you want us to stay- and believe me, I want to stay too- but it’s just not in our best interest. We’d be putting our lives at risk.”

“How is staying for a few more weeks any different than what we’ve been doing this whole time?” Antonio pressed. “Every second we spend here is another second closer to getting him back, so what’s a few more days or weeks? We’ve gone this far; we might as well just stick it out the rest of the way.”

Lovino could tell Gilbert was either close to a breakdown or a freak out, and neither option was something any of them could handle. Hell, he hadn’t even seen the German properly grieve Peter yet, not to mention the lack of mourning for his brother, but he wasn’t about to witness it now if he could help it. “Skittles, shut up.” He hissed in a moment of compassion for the red eyed man, not taking the time to delight in the way Antonio immediately listened to him. “Gilbert, it’s your decision to stay or go, but we all have to agree on the end decision.”

Immediately Gilbert looked so tired that Lovino felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest for him. Where the fuck did that come from? “It’s not your business what I decide, Lovino. You haven’t even been here for a full week; you have no say in this.”

Alright, that was uncalled for. “Excuse me?” Lovino growled, the previous sympathy for Gilbert all but going out the window in the face of his apparent cruel streak. “I have just as much a say in this as anyone else in this fucking group; don’t you dare tell me I don’t.” He growled, “Or did you forget that I was the one that saved you back at the pharmacy? That I’m just as capable as you, if not more?” 

Gilbert immediately shot to his feet. It was a dick move to bring that up, but Lovino couldn’t stand hearing that he didn’t have a say. He didn’t have a say in this fucking apocalypse, he didn’t have a say in finding his brother; it was just a daily reminder that he had no choice in anything regarding his life anymore. 

He didn’t need Gilbert reminding him. 

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ bring that up!” Gilbert hissed, forgetting to stay calm for the group and instead giving into the rage he felt bubbling through his veins. “You have no right to say that to me after everything we’ve done for you!”

“What you’ve ‘done’ for me? All you did is put me in danger and slaughter a fucking kid!”

The sudden silence that blanketed the room was so thick that Lovino could barely breathe, his words replaying themselves in his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, but there was no taking it back now that it was out in the open. The tension in the room and the leftover unresolved emotions from back in that pharmacy were resurfacing, Lovino could feel them, so he had no doubt Gilbert was in the same boat as him. 

“You know just as well as I do that Peter’s death isn’t all on me. It’s on you, too.” Gilbert seethed, his voice eerily calm as eh delivered the blow that had the potential to either make or break the Italian.

God, Lovino knew that. It was all he could think about lately, the only thing he saw when he closed his eyes, but hearing it voiced was like driving a stake into his heart. 

“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going out on a run, just stay here and wallow in your fucking self pity, I don’t give a shit.” Gilbert snarled, the anger practically rolling off him in waves as he stomped past a flabbergasted Antonio and into his room to presumably get ready for an impromptu run. With his departure, the room immediately felt more tense, and as his furious panting filled the silence, Lovino suddenly felt vulnerable. 

Vulnerability wasn’t a feeling he liked.

“Lovino-“

“No,” Lovino snapped at Antonio, turning on the concerned Spaniard just as quickly as he had turned on Gilbert. “No, don’t you fucking say a word. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard enough.” He slapped the hand that Antonio had brought up to rest on his shoulder away harshly, sparing a glare at Francis too for good measure before stomping off down the hall to the green eyed man’s room he had taken for his own.

With the two hot headed men gone, Francis breathed a sigh of relief. “Well that didn’t go quite as well as Gilbert was probably hoping.” 

Antonio could only sigh and run a hand back through his hair to relieve some of the tension he felt buzzing in his bones. Seeing his best friend and Lovino both so upset at once was a lot to handle. Maybe he was just more affected than Francis because he was more impressionable when it came to other people’s emotions, but either way, he suddenly felt so exhausted that he swore he could pass out on the floor if he had the chance. “I hope they’re not always going to be like that.”

Francis scoffed. “Are you kidding? Gilbert is just as hot headed as Lovino; they’re always going to be like this. And as for the Ludwig situation…” He didn’t have to finish that sentence for Antonio to understand what he was getting at.

“He must have been up all night convincing himself that leaving his brother is the right decision.” Antonio mumbled. 

“You know how he is, always assuming himself as the leader and making decisions for the rest of us.” 

“We know how he is, but Lovino doesn’t. He probably feels horrible for what he said.”

The Frenchman seated himself on the couch and cradled his injured wrist. “Regardless if he does or not, someone is going to have to go with Gilbert to make sure he doesn’t run into a group of walkers and try to take them on all at once.” His baby blue eyes glanced over at Antonio for a moment before offering him a soft smile, the upturn of his lips more tired and worn than the Spaniard wished they were. “I’ll go with him so you stay here and try to comfort Hot Head Number Two, okay?” 

Antonio hadn’t for a second thought that either Gilbert or Francis would let him go out on a run, but he was far beyond complaining about that now. There was no way he could keep his head focused on the world around him when he knew Lovino was upset and distressed at the apartment. It would surely get him killed. “Gilbert won’t want you going out with your wrist like it is.” 

Francis shrugged. “He doesn’t have a say in it. He can tell me no all he wants, but I’m not letting him get himself killed.” 

A few muffled stomps and the sound of a backpack being emptied came from Gilbert’s room once their conversation encountered a lull, the sounds almost echoing in the stagnant apartment.

The noise coming from Gilbert’s room didn’t bother Antonio nearly as much as the lack of noise coming from his own room did. Francis looked like he understood at least, so Antonio didn’t have to explain himself. “…It wasn’t their fault, you know. Peter’s death isn’t on either of them.” He murmured to Francis as he fought against the urge to check up on the two fuming men. 

Francis hummed in agreement and ran his hand over the scruff on his chin that had grown more unruly in the past few weeks. “I know. Good luck trying to convince the two of them that, though.”

Antonio knew it was probably pointless to try and convince them both of their innocence before they were ready to forgive themselves and realize the truth. He couldn’t force them to do anything, but he could be there for them when they were ready. 

“You should get out of here before Gilbert comes out,” Francis advised him after a moment, “I don’t know how he’ll react if you say anything about Lovino, so it’s probably a good idea if you get out of here until we come back and he’s blown off some steam.” 

Antonio made a move to refuse, to convince Francis that Gilbert was alright, but he couldn’t force the words past his lips.

Francis was probably right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I have a direction for this fanfic. The next chapter will be more surprising, so look forward to it!


	10. Unexpected News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life takes a surprising turn when Lovino least expects it.

Where Gilbert got off talking to him like that, Lovino didn’t know, but what he did know was that the man was making a racket in his room, the noise only pissing him off more. Finally he couldn’t take it anymore and pushed himself off the bed in one fluid movement to start pacing. It was the only way to get rid of the energy he felt ripping through his body like electricity, lighting every one of his nerves on fire as he fervently paced back and forth from the desk to the bed. 

Who gave Gilbert the right to talk to anyone like that? Moreover, who gave him the fucking right to decide everything for everyone? He was sure Antonio wouldn’t have a problem with letting the albino lead the group, but he wasn’t so sure about Francis. The blonde man was more knowledgeable with things like this than Antonio was, he was sure, so he knew he hadn’t given up leadership so easily, especially to someone as unstable and volatile as Gilbert. Hell, knowing Gilbert, the man probably just woke up one day and decided to take over. 

But aside from that, bringing up Peter was just a low blow, even for him. They were both still just beginning to heal from that incident in the pharmacy, and while Gilbert was probably already hurting thinking about leaving his brother, Lovino didn’t have any sympathy for him anymore. Mentioning the boy was like pouring salt into open wounds, and as he wove his fingers in his hair and tugged at the strands to give himself something else to focus on, he came to a quick conclusion.

Thinking about all of this did nothing but make him more upset. 

Lovino had been about to stalk over to the door and throw it open to yell at Gilbert to stop making so much damn noise when a soft sound graced his ears, the soft knock on his door accompanying it almost completely drowned out by Gilbert’s various clanking and stomping noises. 

“Lovino?” Came a soft voice from the other side of his door. “Can I come in?”

Of all the people that could have been knocking, of course it had to be Antonio. He was the only one there that would actually take the time to come check up on him, but in his irritated state, he didn’t want anything to do with the confusing man. “Go bother Gilbert.” He dismissed him with a harsh and dismissive tone, resuming his pacing when he was sure his unapproachable voice turned Antonio away. 

“Por favor Lovino, open the door.” Antonio begged, obviously not afraid of him even when he sounded like he was seconds away from tearing down the barrier between them and going after the albino for reminding him of his guilt. 

“Go away,” Lovino snarled, getting fed up with the Spaniard’s persistence. Did he ever listen to a thing he was told?

“I just want to talk,” Antonio continued to plead, not budging on the subject as he knocked once more on the wood. “I promise I’ll leave if you don’t want me to stay, but… just please let me in for a few minutes.”

Something about the tone in Antonio’s voice told Lovino that he wasn’t about to become discouraged and go somewhere else, so he supposed there was really only one option if he didn’t want to open the door an hour later find the Spaniard sleeping in the hallway. He wasn’t completely heartless; he wouldn’t be able to sleep that night if he did something like that to the kind man. Forgoing words and deciding to use some of his pent up energy instead, he strode over to the door and threw it open with more force than necessary to give Gilbert a taste of his own medicine, startling Antonio into jumping nearly a foot despite the fact that he had to have heard him coming. “Stop adding to the racket the albino fucker is making.” He growled before turning on his heel and heading to the bed to stand in front of it with his arms crossed and back to Antonio.

Taking the opened door as an invitation to come in, Antonio silently crossed the threshold and gingerly closed it behind him, not slamming it like the Italian had. Now that he was in the room, he found that no words would pass his lips. 

Lovino had seen the determination on the Spaniard’s face when he had been in the doorway, but now that he was actually in the room, he was uncharacteristically silent. “What, not going to say anything?” He taunted without turning around, feeling his shoulders hunching just a bit in preparation for the other man to scold him for lashing out back in the living room. After all, what he said was pretty nasty even to his standards. “Well?” He prompted when Antonio remained completely silent. 

It took a few moments before Antonio found it within himself to speak. “I’m not going to scold you if that’s what you think I’m going to do,” He began softly, his accented voice adding a certain kind of feeling to his words that Lovino couldn’t help but pay attention to. “I actually came in here to make sure you’re alright. What Gilbert said wasn’t necessary, so I wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re doing okay.” He trailed off as soon as Lovino whipped around to face him, his arms still tightly crossed over his chest and his face guarded but still upset. 

“So what?” He prompted rudely, taking a step toward Antonio before realizing what he was doing and stopping where he was. 

“So,” Antonio carefully continued, making sure to stay exactly where he was to avoid scaring the Italian and having him shut him out. “I just wanted to check up on you. Is that so hard to believe?” 

Lovino didn’t answer that but looked off to the side instead, his nails digging into the skin of his elbows as he fought to keep from snapping at the man in front of him. He didn’t deserve the same kind of words he had spat at Gilbert because he hadn’t done anything.

That in itself was a problem, but he wasn’t going to address it now.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes.” Antonio sighed, relaxing his posture a bit as he slouched where he stood, the nerves leaving him tired and unwilling to keep up the charade.

Seeing the Spaniard like that was eye opening for Lovino, though he didn’t outwardly show it. Antonio looked more tired and upset than he had in a long time, his eyes flickering to the door subconsciously every time he heard a noise come from Gilbert’s room. He seemed torn between checking up on his best friend or checking up on him, and the fact that he chose him over his best friend made Lovino’s stomach feel all kinds of weird despite the already tumultuous cocktail of emotions he was experiencing already. 

Antonio had chosen to check up on Lovino over Gilbert, and the Italian didn’t know what to make of that right then. It was too confusing to think about.

“Just say what you came in here to say.” Lovino grunted.

Pursing his lips, Antonio debated his choices for a moment before making his way to the bed and seating himself on the edge of it, the mattress a comforting familiar sensation under him. “We’ve been over this before and I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I really hope you listen to me this time.” He frowned. “No matter what you or Gilbert say to each other, Peter’s death wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, and you can’t let yourself believe the blame is on you. It will eat you alive and destroy you before the walkers outside get the chance, if you let it.” He said in a rush before he could be interrupted, needing to get everything out before Lovino had a chance to refute his words and force him out of the room. “Trust me, I know it wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could.”

Lovino should have known this was what Antonio wanted to talk to him about, but it still caught him slightly off guard. Hearing Peter’s name never failed to make him feel like someone had shoved a knife into his heart and twisted it, and he was sure it showed on his face. “You’re right; we have talked about this before.” He said in a low voice. “So I would appreciate it if you shut up about it and went to coddle Gilbert instead.”

Antonio’s face fell immediately and Lovino refused to feel bad about it. There was no reason for Antonio to waste his time on him, trying to feed him bullshit reassurances that he didn’t want nor deserved. 

“Gilbert won’t listen to me either. You’re both pretty stubborn, you know.” Antonio sighed as he leaned forward and laced his fingers together behind his neck with his elbows resting on his knees. “And I figured Francis will give him a talking to when they go out for a run, so I wanted to make sure you were reassured too. I know you don’t believe me and probably won’t for a while, but trust me.” He turned his gaze to Lovino, and the Italian was admittedly taken aback with the intense emotion he saw in those normally soft eyes. The way they looked now… he didn’t have any words to describe it other than hard and worn out.. “This will destroy you if you let it. It’ll eat up your thoughts every second of every day. Did I do everything I could? Would things have turned out differently if I did something different? You’ll always be thinking about it, even when you don’t want to. Let it go when you can and don’t dwell on it.”

Lovino’s lips were suddenly as dry as his throat. The way Antonio was talking made him think that the man knew exactly what he was talking about, almost as if he had been through something similar. It was unsettling to think of the gentle man shouldering such a burden that it almost destroyed him, but that was exactly what Antonio was making it sound like. 

“How do you know that? How can you be so sure?” Lovino whispered despite himself, licking his lips to wet them because they were so fucking dry. 

Antonio smiled a sad little smile in response, just a slight upturn of his lips that made him look so much older than he was and so, so much more burdened than he had any right to be. And then there were his eyes, so heavy and understanding that Lovino felt a little sick looking at them. “Everyone these days has to remember things they wish they could forget. The only difference is that the ones who learn to let it go are the ones that survive.” He answered cryptically, his soft voice sounding so much louder to Lovino than it actually was. 

There was nothing Lovino could say to that. Even if he had been capable of forming words, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to say anything that would make sense. 

Not after that bombshell was dropped. 

“A-Antonio-”

“It’s not something I like to think about,” Antonio interrupted before Lovino could ask him about it, “And I’ve realized over time that it wasn’t my fault. Am I still upset? Yes. Will I ever get over it? Probably not, but Lovino, please, make peace with it and let it go. And if you ever need to talk to someone, well, I’ll always be here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Lovino could only stare at the Spaniard as he spoke, stunned silent and unsure of what to say. What could he say to something like that? It wasn’t like he could promise that he would go to bed that night and wake up guilt free; that would never happen and would probably frighten everyone if it did, so he did the one thing he knew how to do: run away. “I’m tired, Antonio. I just want to sleep.” It was a lame excuse but he was exhausted, so it wasn’t exactly a lie. Apparently it was the wrong thing to say though because before he knew it, Antonio was on his feet again and right in his face in that frustratingly worried-for-you kind of way.  


“You can’t run from it.”

“I’m not running anywhere, alright? Jesus, I just want to take a nap.” Lovino scowled at being figured out so quickly as he took a step back and settled down on his bed, the expression not feeling quite right on his face for reasons he couldn’t fathom. Maybe he was just more tired than he thought. 

Or at least that was what he thought was going on until the sound of Gilbert slamming his door closed and stomping down the hall into the living room to meet with Francis reminded him just how angry he was, particularly at the red eyed man and his pompous way of dealing with things. 

Antonio took the silence as his chance. “I know you’re upset with Gilbert-“

“Understatement.”

“-but maybe you’re right. Maybe you’ll feel better after you take a nap and have some time to cool down and think things over.” Antonio concluded, realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Lovino the way he was. 

Antonio giving his consent to let him rest would have been much more enjoyable had he not been so furious that he couldn’t even sit still, clenching and unclenching his hands in the covers as he felt his legs start to go numb where they were handing off the edge of the bed. “Great. So if you’ll just leave now, I’ll do some thinking and reflecting.” He not so subtly told the Spaniard to leave, watching as those green eyes lit up in understanding before a frown settled on the man’s face. 

“I’m going to read while you sleep, okay?” He asked as he got up and wandered over to his desk to rifle through one of the drawers, completely ignoring Lovino’s not so subtle plea for him to leave.

“In here?” Lovino almost whined, wanting to be alone. It was easier to drown the world out when he was alone. 

The curly haired brunette nodded without turning around, straightening up when he found what he was looking for and seating himself in the computer chair that didn’t serve a purpose any longer. “Gilbert and Francis are leaving to go on a run, so we’re the only ones here.” 

Lovino waited for a further explanation and when he received none, he practically growled in frustration. “And why does that matter?”

Antonio cracked open the paperback in his lap and crossed his legs, getting comfortable on the old chair. “Well, I don’t want you to get lonely. And if anything should happen, I want to be as close to you as possible.” He shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

If Antonio thought he was being covert with the way he was phrasing things, he had another thing coming. Lovino could tell the Spaniard didn’t like being alone, if the way the man stuck to his side like glue the entire time he was confined to the apartment for two days back when he was being punished was any indicator. Surely he had suffered for quite a long time alone when Gilbert and Francis went out on runs, so why was he so suddenly unable to be alone? Or was he always like this and just hid it better when the Italian wasn’t there? “Sure.” He rolled his eyes and decided to just ignore the other’s presence, curling up in the bed and turning his back to the room’s other occupant. It was the only way he could pretend like the green eyed man wasn’t there, and thank god he wasn’t as loud as Gilbert. If he had matched the German man in volume and obnoxiousness, Lovino would have shoved him out of the room faster than he could gouge out a walker’s eye. 

The only sound Antonio made was the soft noise of his breathing and the occasional flutter as he turned a page in his book though, and with the apartment shrouded in silence now that the other two were out exploring the town, his irritation slowly bled into simple exhaustion. That was easier to handle, and with little more than closing his eyes, he found himself teetering on the line of unconsciousness. It was a relief, that he was sure of, but right when he was about to surrender to sleep and leave the stresses of reality behind him for as long as he could, the feeling of something warm brushing against his forehead jolted him awake. There was only one person that could be, and as he held his tongue and carefully kept his breathing even and eyes closed, he was proven correct. 

“I’m sorry you have to go through this, Lovino.” He heard Antonio whisper as gentle fingers brushed his bangs away from his forehead and sifted through the strands, almost as if he were admiring them. “It doesn’t get any easier, but you’re strong, much stronger than Gilbert or anyone else here. I think that’s why you two bump heads so much,” He heard a breathy laugh come from somewhere above him. “Gilbert doesn’t like people challenging him and that’s all you seem to do whether you mean to or not.” 

The hand carding itself through his hair and gently gliding across his skin was starting to get to him, the sensation more relaxing than he would ever admit it being, even to himself. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest with every strand of hair the Spaniard brushed out of his face, but he wasn’t willing to give up on his charade just yet.

He had a feeling Antonio was going to tell him something important. He could tell from the way Antonio held his breath for a few seconds before letting it out in one big heave.

“We’ll find Feliciano, whether he’s your brother, best friend, lover, whatever. We’ll find him and I won’t let what happened to Gabriel happen to him. I’ll protect you both even if it kills me.”

While Lovino had no clue who Gabriel was, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart twisted in his chest as Antonio promised him that he would protect his brother and himself with his life, the sentiment more than he could process at the moment. With the lives they led, he wasn’t sure it was possible to protect someone so wholly, let alone two people, but he wasn’t going to say anything about it.

Just hearing Antonio offer his protection with so much conviction was enough.

“I know you can’t hear me, but I’m going to go into the living room to sort the food again.” Antonio whispered as the hand in Lovino’s hair drifted down to his cheek to cup it briefly before letting go. Lovino would never admit it out loud, but he sort of missed that warmth as soon as it was taken away. “It’ll be a good idea to get something done before Gilbert returns. It’ll keep him off your back for a while so you can sleep.” He sighed before Lovino heard the Spaniard’s light footsteps leaving the room and the soft click of the door as it was closed behind him. 

As soon as Antonio was gone, Lovino pushed himself up and rested his face in his hands. What was he supposed to make of that? First Antonio assures him about Peter before switching to confessing about something horrible happening to him and then he caresses him and talks to him like… like a lover? This was all too confusing for him to handle. The more he thought about it, the worse his headache became, and without any painkillers, he forced himself to stop thinking about it before his brain could melt and dribble out his ears. Overthinking things never helped anyone, anyway. 

There was nothing in the room to do other than read, sleep, or stare at the ceiling, so Lovino resigned himself to just lying on his back on the bed and staring up at the various cracks in the ceiling he had come to memorize over the past few days. Without Antonio in the room, his attention flickered between the door and those cracks before it inevitably turned to the emerald eyed man. 

As much as he didn’t want to, he found himself recalling the way Antonio’s hand felt on his skin and how strong his voice sounded when he promised to sacrifice his own life if it would keep him and Feliciano safe. After running alone for so long, the contact and comfort of another living human being that wasn’t trying to make him its lunch was almost too good, even if it was just Antonio. His heart didn’t know any different as he felt it speed up at the recent memory, much to his displeasure. His words- no, his everything- affected Lovino more than he wanted to acknowledge the longer they were forced to coexist. 

He hadn’t felt that kind of affection from another person in so long, so of course he was affected so strongly, he reasoned. He was caught off guard too, so that only solidified his reasoning for him reacting the way he was. Or at least that was what he told himself when he swore his heart was going to jump out of his chest and land beside him on the bed to mock him. 

“Goddammit.” He whispered harshly under his breath as he felt his cheeks heat up at the memory of those strong and calloused fingers carding through his hair as gently as one would expect of the green eyed man. Lifting a hand to run over his face and into his hair in an effort to rub his blush away, the Italian made the conclusion that he was just overtired. That was a good explanation for the way his heart felt like it was going to explode, right?

Thinking about Antonio like that while also dealing with the leftover feelings from what happened to Peter made him feel a little sick when he thought about it, so before he could make himself physically sick with the conflicting emotions, he forced his mind to stop focusing on anything and spaced out, putting his all into just staring at the cracked ceiling and getting his heart to slow down into a more normal rhythm. His hard work payed off a few minutes later when his breath came in an even rhythm and his heart was back to normal.

He didn’t know how much time passed before he noticed the sun outside starting to descend in the sky, bathing the Spaniard’s room in rich golds and oranges through the drawn curtains. His attention idly flickered from the ceiling and the shadows playing across it to take in the colors spilling over the floorboards. Seeing such vibrant colors was a nice change of scenery, and with his surroundings being bathed in light, Lovino slowly let himself space out. It wasn’t like there was much else to do anyway, and the beautiful sight in front of him was enough to keep his attention long enough for him to just sit there and stare aimlessly. 

Of course he could always leave the room and go seek out Antonio for something to do, wherever the Spaniard wandered off to, but leaving the bed felt wrong. Like… like something would happen if he left those softs sheets, and after everything that had already happened, he was going to trust his gut instinct. It hadn’t done him wrong yet, and he hoped it never would. 

It felt like ages had gone by before he felt himself teetering on the edge of barely awake and sleeping, the objects in the room nearly blurring together as he fought to stay conscious. It didn’t really matter if he went to sleep or not, but he didn’t want to miss anything Antonio could possibly do if he fell asleep. He hated himself for it, but he craved the Spaniard’s hand in his hair again. 

The sudden slam of his door opening and hitting the wall next to it had Lovino nearly jumping out of his skin, whipping around in preparation for a fight as he quickly scanned the area for a threat. 

Antonio stood panting in the doorway, entire body tense and face pale as a sheet as his fists clenched and unclenched beside him. Everything about his posture and expression tipped Lovino off that something was horribly wrong. Antonio had burst into the room without knocking, something he made a point of doing every single time before asking for entry into the room. His own room, might he add. “Antonio…?” Lovino called out, breath hitching in his lungs in anticipation of what the Spaniard was going to say.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Taking a shaky breath, Antonio fixed his wide panicked eyes on Lovino. “They… Gilbert and Francis found Ludwig,” He panted, out of breath from the impact of what he was saying. 

The name rang some sort of bell in Lovino’s mind but he couldn’t place the face to the name, not that it was important at the moment. Gilbert had finally found his brother, which meant his whole plan of leaving him behind had gone up in smoke. Now that the albino had found his family, he was no doubt going to pack everything up and take them to wherever this Marina place was, effectively giving Lovino no chance at all of finding his brother. 

He was going to have to go off on his own.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts, he almost missed the way Antonio’s breathing sped up in either fear or anticipation, he couldn’t tell which. Either way, it was obvious the Spaniard had something else to say.  


“What is it?” Lovino asked hesitantly, not sure he wanted to know what else happened. Had Ludwig been bitten? Was he already dead and they just happened to stumble across his corpse?

“It’s Gilbert,” Antonio blurted in a rush. “He found Feliciano.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AW YEAH


	11. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion Lovino and Gilbert have been waiting for.

For a split second, Lovino wanted to tackle Antonio and force him into submission for saying his brother’s name like he did. Who gave him the right to give him false hope like this after everything he had been through already? But the longer he stared open mouthed at the way Antonio’s hands trembled and his face got progressively paler, he quickly came to the conclusion that the Spaniard was certainly not joking. 

Almost as if a flame had been lit under him, Lovino tore out of bed and roughly pushed Antonio out of the doorway so he could race down the hall and confirm with his own eyes what the man was saying, not paying attention to the grunt the green eyed man made at the shove. Every step he took toward where he was told his brother was felt like a lifetime rather than a few seconds.

The first thing Lovino saw when he encountered the four people standing in the living room was red.

Blood. Blood was all over both Feliciano and who he assumed was Ludwig where they stood surrounded by a fretting Francis and a hysterical Gilbert, caking them like a second skin. Lovino wasn’t worried about Ludwig, but his brother…

He fought down the urge to gag. Even in the tattered and stained rags that could barely be called clothes, he would recognize the younger Vargas anywhere. “F-Feli!” He cried around the lump in his throat, tearing across the room and wrapping his younger brother in his arms so tightly that he felt Feliciano choke out a gasp where his face was being pressed into his neck. He ignored his reaction, instead focusing on the fact that Feliciano was breathing and warm in his arms after all this time. 

He was _alive._

“ _F-Feli, God, what- where were you?! I was- I was looking for you all this time!_ ” He rambled in Italian, unable to stop himself from sobbing as the familiar scent of his baby brother met his nose. He briefly buried his face in his hair, his usual soft smell muted by dirt and sweat and _blood._

It was wrong, so wrong, but that didn’t stop the relieved tears that he felt carving a path down his cheeks. He would rather have his last remaining family with him, bloody or not.

Feliciano let out a sob of his own as Lovino embraced him, his own hands scrambling to clutch at whatever part of his brother he could reach. “L-Lovi!” The younger Italian broke down, his knees buckling as he brought them both down to the ground so they were kneeling on the wood in the middle of the living room. “ _Lov- Lovi, I… I don’t know what-_ “ He started to hyperventilate, only catching himself and calming down enough to breathe properly when he caught Ludwig’s calm eyes watching him from over his brother’s shoulder. “ _We- Ludwig and I- I tried so hard to look for you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere and-_ "

“ _Shh, no, it’s alright Feli. You’re here now, and like fuck I’m letting you go again,_ ” Lovino cut him off, ignoring everyone else in the room as he focused solely on his brother. 

The brother he was so sure he had lost. 

Whatever he had done in a past life to earn the return of Feliciano, he didn’t know, but what he did know as he buried Feliciano’s face in his shoulder and cradled him as best he could was that he was momentarily grateful for knowing the trio who took him in. If they hadn’t found him, then the chances of him finding Feliciano by himself were slim to none. 

He probably would have died without ever seeing his baby brother again. 

Pulling back a little at the thought, Lovino raked his eyes over the thin frame of the boy in his arms. There was a lot of blood on him and he looked almost as bad as those walkers outside, not to mention how horrid he smelled. His only comfort was the fact that Ludwig looked much worse. As he tightened his grip on Feliciano, he made the terrifying discovery that the younger man had lost a considerable amount of weight, and for a second, his heart dropped into his stomach. Weight loss was something to be expected considering their living conditions, but still, he couldn’t help but be worried. “Are you hurt?” He demanded in English as he cupped Feliciano’s face and turned it this way and that, searching for any visible scratches or bites through the dirt and sweat caking his skin. 

God, he didn’t know what he would do if his brother was bitten. 

“I’m okay, the b-blood… it’s not mine,” Feliciano quickly assured him through his heaving sobs, still struck by the image of his older brother kneeling in front of him, alive and as healthy as he could be in their situation. With the amount of blood on him though, there was no way Lovino would believe him. 

“You’re sure? No scratches, scrapes, or bruises?” Lovino pressed, ignoring the sound of Gilbert sobbing behind him as he held his own little brother. God, he was having enough trouble getting his words out around his own tears; he didn't need the added noise of Gilbert. “Don’t lie to me Feli, I need to know. If I lost you because of some stupid scrape getting infected…” 

Feliciano sniffled as he stared at Lovino, his watering gentle brown eyes softening even more at his brother’s concern. “I-I do have a scratch on my arm, but it’s not… it’s not bad.” He whimpered.

Immediately Lovino was hoisting his brother up with shaky arms and steadying them both as he walked him over to the couch and sat him down. “Skittles,” He called out to Antonio without taking his eyes off Feliciano as he maneuvered his brother’s arm so he could get a look at the cut. “Bring me the first aid kit.”

Having been gawking at the scene of siblings being reunited beside Francis, Antonio snapped out of his daze as soon as he was addressed. “O-okay,” He stuttered before taking one last look and jogging to the bathroom, figuring he was being instructed to grab what Lovino needed because the Italian didn’t want to have Feliciano leave his sight even for a second. No one could blame him for that.

“Feliciano, I need you to tell me what happened,” Lovino said as soon as Antonio was out of the room, turning back to his brother and worriedly running his hands over every part of Feliciano he could reach just to assure himself that yes, he was actually there. After all these weeks of agonizing over his brother’s questionable existence, he was right there in front of him. Lovino was still partially convinced he was dreaming because this was all too good to be real. “How… how did you get here? H-how are you alive?” He forced out as he rolled up Feliciano’s dirty and ripped sleeve to reveal a shallow cut that looked cleaner than Lovino had been expecting given the state of the younger man. It seemed like the younger boy had been taking care of himself as best he could while they were apart, and that was all he could have asked for.

Maybe he shouldn't have been so worried. Feliciano had taken care of himself without him around, something eh never did before this whole apocalypse thing began, and he was obviously still alive, which was a miracle in itself.

Feliciano gulped and gnawed on his lower lip until it looked ready to bleed, his eyes tearing themselves away from Lovino to settle on the blonde German a little ways behind the older Italian who was wrapped up in his own big brother. “I was… I was with Ludwig when it happened, and he… he protected me the whole way here.” Feliciano murmured, sharing a look with Ludwig from over his shoulder that Lovino couldn’t see. “He kept me safe and we made our way here after his college was overrun. We stayed there for a few days before we decided to come try and find his brother here, then go look for you. He was the one I went to see when I left you that day.”

Lovino cast a suspicious glance through his tears over at the hulking man who had much too many muscles for the kind of malnourishment they were all suffering. “He didn’t hurt you?” He demanded, narrowing his eyes at the blue eyed German, the man’s sullen and pale face rubbing him the wrong way. He looked like a dangerous person, and if he had inherited Gilbert’s temper, he didn’t want to think of the things he could have done to Feliciano. It wasn’t like his brother was the easiest to put up with considering his bubbly personality and tendency to talk a mile a minute, and when forced into a situation where one had to be quiet to survive, well... he could only imagine the struggle. He supposed it was like putting up with Antonio in a way, though he had infinitely more patience for Feliciano.

“No, no!” Feliciano hastily waved his hands in front of him in an attempt to calm down his overprotective brother. “He looked after me and got me food and killed those… those things when I froze, and- don’t be mean to him, Lovi. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him,” He mumbled, hoping that was enough to assure Lovino that Ludwig wasn’t someone he had to worry about. “I owe him my life and so much else.”

Lovino still didn’t look convinced, and as he heard Gilbert still wailing over his brother who was returning the hug the red eyed man forced him into with a look that said he wasn’t used to the physical affection but certainly appreciated it, a panicked Antonio came back into the room and rushed over to his side to hand him the first aid kit with hurried movements. “Do you want me to clean him up?” He heard Antonio’s careful voice beside him. The insinuation that he leave his brother’s side sent red hot fury tearing through his veins like lightning. 

He just got him back; there was no way he was letting him out of his sight, even if it was around Antonio.

“I’ll do it,” Lovino quickly replied with more bite than he intended, angling himself in front of his brother so Antonio had to get through him to get to the other man. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want Antonio near him, but after just being reunited with his brother… he didn’t want anyone else going near them, afraid everything would fall apart if someone else intruded. It was instinctual, and as he watched Antonio’s lips draw into a thin line, he prepared himself to argue with the stubborn man.

“…Okay. I’ll go tend to Ludwig, then.” Antonio obliged after a tense moment as he turned his attention over to Ludwig instead, his shoulders tense and hands trembling a bit from the amount of things happening in the room at once. 

Lovino quickly ignored the Spaniard in favor of ripping open the kit and pulling out what he would need with shaking fingers, cursing himself for his weakness when he was finally given the chance to take care of the gentle boy in front of him. 

“Who was that?” Feliciano sniffled, watching his brother pull out cotton swabs and disinfectant with watery chocolate eyes, sitting as close to the other as he could. 

Lovino’s hands paused for a fraction of a second before he resumed dabbing the cotton swab in the bottle of peroxide. “One of the bastards that found me.” He replied in a clipped tone before catching himself and softening his voice. This was his littler brother he was talking to, after all. He didn’t deserve his temper. “Ran into him in Walmart. Fucking idiots were being loud enough to be heard for miles. Kinda surprised we didn’t get attacked, actually.” He added as he began to try and clean Feliciano’s scrape, his hands shaking so badly with leftover adrenaline that he was having a hell of a time trying to get this done. 

Feliciano observed the struggle quietly as a fresh wave of sadness crashed over him, his eyes watering all over again. “Lovi…” He murmured sadly as he watched his brother shake and tremble, not feeling much better himself.

The elder Italian twin ignored him for the moment as he cursed his hands, his temper finally reaching a breaking point when he almost dropped the swab. He would have had a meltdown over his inability to care for Feliciano had a pair of tanned fingers not covered his own to help steady him, the familiar scent of Antonio suddenly filling his senses and the warmth his proximity gave him easing his trembling just the slightest bit. Whipping around to see the curly haired man staring at him with a carefully veiled look of sympathy, Lovino snarled at him for interrupting. “I can do this,” He growled, hackles raised as Antonio gently pried the Italian’s hands off the cotton swab so it didn’t fall to the ground. 

“I know you can, Lovi. But I want to help.” Antonio knelt down in front of Feliciano so Lovino was still sitting beside his brother. “He needs that cut to be sterilized as quickly and thoroughly as possible. I can clean his wound from here, if you don’t want to move.” He spoke calmly as he picked up where Lovino had left off, treating Feliciano as if he was something that would break if he was too forceful. If someone who didn’t know Antonio watched him do this, they would just think he was treating the younger man like this because his big brother was glowering at him as he worked, but that wasn’t the case and Lovino knew it. Antonio was this gentle with almost everything he did; his tenderness wasn’t circumstantial. “It doesn’t look bad at all. Just needs a bandage to prevent dirt getting into it.” The Spaniard announced after a second or two of inspecting it.

Reluctant as he was to let Antonio take over and touch his brother, Lovino couldn’t deny that the shaking of his limbs was starting to really get to him. It was bad enough that he had to cross his arms and grip his elbows to keep the tremors controlled. The familiar shaking of his limbs and body without his consent was a cruel reminder of the Chorea he faced as a child and still had to endure on rare occasions even as a young adult, much to his displeasure. Accidentally elbowing Feliciano while Antonio was working was the last thing he wanted to do so he kept his limbs to himself and simply watched the Spaniard, eyeing every movement to make sure he didn't pose a threat to his brother Not that he thought he would, but his thoughts were in such a frenzy that he could't be sure.

Antonio worked in silence until Feliciano couldn’t remain quiet any longer. “Who are you?” He murmured as the Spaniard gently finished cleaning him off and began wrapping his arm, green briefly meeting curious brown for a second before the Spaniard offered him a tiny smile.

“I’m Antonio. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. You’re Feliciano, I’m assuming?” Feliciano nodded in confirmation as Lovino studied the both of them with calculating eyes, just waiting to pounce if something made his brother even the tiniest bit uncomfortable.

“That’s me. Feliciano Vargas.” Feliciano sniffled.

Antonio was quiet for a moment. “Lovino missed you a lot, then.” He noted as he finished up and offered a more honest smile to Feliciano, looking like his mood was lifted just a tad at learning the twin’s last name. “He loves you more than anything else, you know. Wouldn’t stop trying to find you the whole time he’s been here.”

“Really?”

“Sí, I even had to force him to stay inside when he wanted to go out at night and look for you.”

“Shut up.” Lovino hissed, not wanting his brother to stop talking because _god_ he had missed his voice, but he could do without hearing Antonio. The Spaniard and his brother seemed to get along though, and while he was still reeling at the fact that he was here and safe and _not outside_ , he felt a particular warmth in his stomach at seeing the two of them talking to each other. 

Antonio completely ignored Lovino’s harsh words in favor of double checking his work on Feliciano’s wound and giving him a warm smile, making the older Italian’s skin crawl a bit. “You know, I knew you were looking for someone, but I had no idea that someone was your brother. Or twin, better yet.” 

“Yeah, well, spilling all my secrets to a guy who throws candy at strangers in Walmart wasn’t exactly high on my list of things to do. Besides, how could I have known you wouldn’t do something drastic?”

“Do you really distrust me that much?”

Lovino paused at that for a second before glancing over at the neat patchwork the Spaniard had done on Feliciano’s arm. “I did back then.” 

“So… you trust me now?” Antonio hesitated, the hope in his voice almost embarrassing for Lovino. 

“You know what? We’re not talking about this now. Feliciano, I’m gonna get some food for you to eat. You look like you haven’t eaten since this whole shit fest began and I’ll be damned if something happens to you on my watch.” Lovino quickly changed the subject, hesitating only a moment before leaving his brother’s side and rushing over to where he knew Gilbert kept the sorted food, grabbing a can of peaches and hurrying back to Feliciano, all the while never taking his eyes off his form. 

Feliciano eyed the can as it was brought to him with a starving look in his soft chocolate eyes. Lovino couldn’t have missed that desperate look if he tried. “Lovi, I- I can’t eat that. It’s yours.” He tried to protest. 

“Stop arguing with me, Feli.” Lovino shut him down and shoved the can into his hands, snatching the knife he kept permanently attached to his hip from its holster and jabbing the end through the top of the can to open it. They didn’t need the younger Vargas twin to cut his fingers off in an attempt to get at the fruit. “There, now eat.”

Feliciano didn’t need to be told twice. Tearing the cap off and downing half the can in one go before his shrunken stomach couldn’t handle any more, he turned doe like eyes over to Ludwig and motioned him over. “Luddy, they have _peaches!_ ” he raved, “Come have some! Gosh, I haven’t had peaches in so long!” He beamed as he savored the flavor, his smile turning Lovino’s insides to jelly at the familiar upturn of lips. 

Feliciano might have missed peaches, but Lovino had missed his brother more than any food he could possibly think of. He would give up all the peaches left in the world if it meant he could see Feliciano smile like that every day for the rest of his life, and he thought it wasn't too much of a stretch to think the other thought the same thing. 

Wordlessly Ludwig disentangled himself from his brother and wandered over to Feliciano’s side despite the red eyed man's protests. The way he moved toward them, slow and careful, almost made Lovino laugh. Though with the way he was almost growling at the blonde man though, just daring him to try something, it made sense why the younger German man would be so cautious. 

“You should eat the rest, Feli.” His deep voice insisted as he pushed the offered can back toward the younger man and rolled the shoulder Gilbert had a hand clamped on. “I don’t need as much food as you do.”

“But Luddy-“

“Just finish the can. You like peaches, right?” He insisted, not budging even when Gilbert finally peeled his eyes off of the younger German brother and eyed Feliciano critically. That expression forced Lovino to grind his teeth in an effort to keep quiet. After all, Gilbert was the one that found his brother. He owed the obnoxious man everything. 

“Whoa, you look just like Lovino.” Gilbert commented, slinging an arm around Ludwig’s shoulders despite his taller stature and grinning with more happiness than the older Vargas had ever seen the older German man express despite the redness around his eyes. The older German brother had been crying, and for once, Lovino didn’t call him out on it. 

He couldn’t ignore that dumb comment, though. “That’s because we’re twins, dumbass.” Screw being nice when Gilbert had to go and say something stupid like that. 

The red eyed man tried to scowl at Lovino but was obviously too overjoyed over his brother’s return to do much else than manage a somewhat constipated look that didn’t translate his irritation at all. “Cool. Anyway, I bet you’re hungry Luddy. We have all sorts of canned food and shit like that, so you can pick what you want to eat. It’s not a very wide selection, but hey, it’s food.” He eagerly steered his brother over to the pile of sorted cans, encouraging him to pick something to eat so Feliciano could finish off the can of peaches.

No one commented on the wetness of Gilbert's eyes.

Once Ludwig and Gilbert were out of his presence, Lovino relaxed as he let himself become absorbed in the happy little noises Feliciano was making as he ate. “So this is where you’ve been staying?” Feliciano managed to get out between bites of food when he noticed his brother observing him. 

“For about a week, yeah. It’s… safe.” Lovino admitted as he watched the other boy plow through the peaches, wondering if he was right in proclaiming this place a safe haven to his brother. Just because he deemed it secure didn’t mean nothing would happen eventually, but for the moment, eh figured he could sacrifice the truth to give the younger man some sense of protection.

Antonio quickly jumped into the conversation. “It’s perfectly safe! We blocked the door and cleaned out the rest of the apartments, so it’s just us here.” He added. “We’ve been here since this whole thing started and we’ve never had a problem other than running out of food a few times. Actually, the time I found Lovino was one of those instances where we were so pressed for food that we all needed to go out and gather as much as we could.” He rambled when no one stopped him, his gaze bouncing between Feliciano and Lovino like he was unsure of who to look at. He ended up settling on keeping his eyes on the older Vargas though.

“It is quite safe.” Francis chipped in as he moved away from Ludwig and Gilbert to wander over to the three huddled by the couch. Instead of speaking up earlier, he preferred to hang back and watch the events unfold in front of him. “Gilbert and I are the ones that go out on runs, though Lovino went on one as well. You and Ludwig will probably stay here to keep Antonio company while we go and then help sort things when we bring back supplies.” 

No one mentioned what happened during that particular run, but Feliciano didn’t seem to sense the mood as he finally finished the can. “You went out on runs together? Ludwig hated bringing me on runs,” Feliciano sighed as he set the empty tin can down on the floor and scooted closer to his big brother, craving his comfort and warmth. “He wanted me in his sight constantly but he didn’t want me to leave wherever we were staying. He said it was too dangerous.”

Well, at least Lovino could appreciate the fact that Ludwig seemed to have half a brain when it came to keeping people safe. “You’re not going on runs here either.” 

Feliciano didn’t fight him, not that he expected him to. “I’ll stay if Ludwig does.” He replied simply, keeping himself practically glued to his brother’s side. 

Gilbert was quick to speak up once Ludwig’s name was brought up. “Of course Ludwig is staying here.” He frowned, giving his brother a stern look. “Well, he is at least until we get enough shit to get to Marina.”

Feliciano perked up happily when Ludwig came closer to him, but Lovino wasn’t quite as content. “Can’t we just appreciate the fact that they’re alive for a few minutes before thinking of Marina?” Lovino frowned at Gilbert, scooting himself close enough to Feliciano that he was practically pressed flush against his side on the couch. 

“Marina?” Feliciano spoke up questioningly.

“A safe place.” Lovino quickly informed him. “Gilbert wants to bring us there. Don’t know how safe it is now, but we’ll see.”

Ludwig’s narrowed eyes studied his brother before flickering over to Lovino. “A safe place?” He repeated. “Where is this ‘Marina’?” 

A momentary silence shrouded the room as everyone waited for Gilbert to explain. He was the one who knew the most, after all. “It’s up North. We have to reach the coast.” The red eyed man answered easily, eyeing the can of peaches Feliciano had polished off with a frown. “We still have to gather a lot of supplies before we can think of leaving here, but once we do… we’re going to head there. It should only be a few days of walking, maybe a week at most if we keep moving until the sun goes down.”

Lovino felt Feliciano go ridged beside him. “Feli?” 

“The North… up North, there’s…” The younger Vargas brother trailed off as he brought his legs up onto the couch and leaned further into Lovino’s side. 

“There’s nothing up North.” Ludwig finished for him, his voice a tad gentler than before as he regarded the paleness of Feliciano’s expression. 

“What do you mean, there’s nothing?” Lovino snapped at him, noticing Antonio move a bit closer to him as he spoke. 

Ludwig sighed, running a dirty hand up through his unwashed blonde hair to get it out of his eyes. “There aren’t any survivors up North. Whatever isn’t burned is overrun, and there aren’t many places to scavenge for food.”

“That doesn’t matter, though.” Francis cut in. “We’d just be passing through. All we would need to do is find a safe place to sleep and then we’d be fine.”

“You don’t understand.” Ludwig shook his head, the haunted look on his face ten times worse than anyone in the room had been expecting. “To get to where you need to be, you have to go through the major city. You have no idea how difficult it was to get out of there alive. The number of those things out there… it’s staggering. Feliciano and I barely escaped with our lives.” 

Antonio bit his lip as he stared at Ludwig with a growing look of dread dawning on his face. “So… if we go, it’s basically a suicide mission?”

No one in the room offered to answer his question for what felt like years. Gilbert was the one to break the silence. “Then if the city is overrun, we can go around it. It might take a few days more, but we can do it.”  


Francis crossed his arms and leveled a strict look to everyone in the room. “So if we do this, we’re going to have to carry everything we’ll need on our backs. With six people it shouldn’t be too hard, and it’ll only get easier as we eat and the weight lessens.” He brainstormed. “But if we go around the city, we’ll have to pack more and fight more.”

Right there was a prime reason why Lovino wasn’t so on board with going anywhere near the city that made Feliciano look so terrified, but he knew he couldn’t argue with Gilbert. Now that Ludwig was in the picture, the red eyed man would be a pain in the ass to try and reason with. Not that he himself would be any different of course, but as he glanced over to sneak a peek at his brother, he couldn’t help but yearn for the safe place so the bubbly man wouldn’t have to worry about anything ever again. 

He deserved that much, at least. 

“If we go around the city, we need to stay as far away from populated areas as possible. Feliciano isn’t going to fight and neither is Antonio.” He put in his own two cents when there was a lull in conversation, not missing how Antonio flinched at the words. “If we do this, those two will have to be protected at all times. That means someone stays up at night to be lookout, and between the four of us, we’re going to be exhausted a lot quicker.”

“Then that’s just how it’s gotta be.” Gilbert frowned, not liking that his plan was being picked apart.

Antonio bit his lip where he was still seated close to Feliciano. “So we’re really doing this?”

All heads in the room turned to look at him, taking in his pale face and wide eyes. “Yeah, we are. We have enough supplies for half a week between the six of us, so first thing tomorrow, we’re going out on a run to stock up.” Gilbert answered him, schooling his expression into something gentler for the sake of the Spaniard. “After that, we’re leaving for Marina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I updated pretty quickly this time!


	12. Leaving the Nest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short, I had a lot of problems with it. The next one will be longer!

After the discussion and rough planning for their journey to Marina that took much longer than it really needed to, Lovino couldn’t stand hearing Gilbert’s voice drowning out Feliciano’s anymore. It was too much to deal with too soon, and with how his head was already spinning from the return of his brother, Gilbert’s insistent voice only grated on his nerves. “Feli.” He murmured as his brother quickly tore his gaze away from Ludwig and shifted his attention to the elder Vargas. “You need to sleep.”

Feliciano pursed his lips and looked around the room at the mention of going to bed from where he still sat on the couch. “Where are we all sleeping?” He asked innocently, the tiny apartment obviously not offering much in the way of sleeping spaces for six grown men. 

“I’ll show you.” Lovino seized the chance to get out of the busy living room, grabbing Feliciano’s hand a bit too roughly just to convince himself that yeah, the boy was really there, before tugging him off the couch and over toward the hallway that lead to Antonio’s room. He felt the weight of an imploring gaze on his back as he dragged his brother away, but he didn’t turn around to see who it was.

He had a feeling he knew whose eyes were on him.

“They gave you a _bed_? Feliciano gaped when Lovino pushed open the door to Antonio’s room and ushered his brother inside. God, it was already more peaceful here, and he felt himself slowly relaxing in response as he shut the door behind them.

Keeping the door closed was a clear sign to leave them alone, or at least that was what he hoped he was communicating through neglecting to leave it open.

Lovino huffed. “Technically it’s Antonio’s. I took it from him so now he either sleeps on the floor next to the bed or on the couch in the living room.” He neglected to inform his brother about the time he woke up to a warm body beside him and chocolate curls spread out on his pillow like a halo, though. Even he wasn’t ready to admit to that himself just yet.

Feliciano didn’t look too surprised by the confession, but Lovino didn’t think he would. He was the kind of person who took things in stride no matter how shocking it might be. “That was nice of him to let you use it.”

Lovino found himself scoffing at that. “More like he forced me to use it.” He grumbled as he watched his brother linger beside the mattress as if he was too afraid to sit down. Anything was better than sleeping out in the open, Lovino knew that firsthand, so he was sure Feliciano was looking forward to being in an actual bed despite being nervous. “The mattress isn’t going to bite you, you know.” He cracked a half smile just for Feliciano’s sake as he walked up to his brother and laid down on the side he usually slept on, leaving the opposite side empty. 

There was a moment of silence before a flurry of limbs assaulted Lovino as Feliciano threw his arms around him and buried his face in his chest as he overcame his nerves and descended onto the mattress, delicate lashes fluttering against dirty cheeks as he closed his eyes and let out a content sigh. “…I missed you, Lovi.” He whispered into the fabric of Lovino’s borrowed shirt, his voice almost too soft to be heard.

But oh, Lovino heard it. And just as soon as he did, he felt that unpleasant stinging in the back of his throat that let him know he was about to cry. “I missed you too Feli. So, _so_ much. ” He whispered back thickly, winding only slightly trembling arms around his younger brother and pulling him into the warmth of his body despite the both of them being filthy. It felt so good to have him there, so _right,_ that he knew it wouldn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Not when he was so comfortably surrounded by the boy he had been searching for. 

To be honest, this all still felt like a dream. After searching without any results for so long, it was almost unbelievable that he had his twin in his arms, safe and sound. Maybe he was awful for thinking like that, but he couldn’t help it. 

He hadn’t truly been expecting the soft spoken man to still be alive no matter how hard he worked every day to convince himself that he was alright. It had been a daily struggle to keep up enough hope to keep himself moving forward, to fight another day, to climb over the mountain of corpses outside. Now that he finally found who he was looking for, Feliciano breathing steadily against his neck where he had his face buried in his sleep, he found himself more on edge than before.

Now that he was responsible for Feliciano, he had no make sure he stayed safe. That meant not only looking out for himself but another person as well, and after all those months of trekking alone out there, the thought of something like this throwing him off kilter and upsetting the balance he had gained for himself was unsettling. This was Feliciano he was talking about though, so of course he would do anything for him. 

He just needed to make sure he could keep the both of them alive.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Feli.” He murmured against the forehead of his slumbering brother with the knowledge that his words wouldn’t be heard. It was nighttime by now, and as the faint moans from outside the window faded into background noise, Lovino found himself too wired to sleep. Too much had happened that day and he had too much to think about to even consider falling asleep. Besides, tomorrow Gilbert and Francis were going to go on a run, so he and the other three would be stuck here doing nothing. It wouldn’t kill him to take a nap sometime in the afternoon if he forced Feliciano to take one with him and have Antonio guard the door. That Ludwig looked like a shady character with his bulk build and strong facial features, and despite Feliciano trusting him, Lovino needed more convincing before he would trust that man with anything more than a can opener.

He had just finished tucking himself and Feliciano even further under the blankets when a subtle creak he had come to recognize as the door being opened met his ears, his head immediately turning to take in the intruder and size them up. 

“You should be sleeping.” Antonio whispered as he slinked into the room and closed the door softly behind himself to keep the light from the living room.

“So should you.” Lovino quipped as he watched Antonio make his way over to the bed and take a seat on the floor, deciding not to risk the chance of the computer chair squeaking and waking Feliciano up. If anything, he appreciated the thought. 

“Hmm.” Antonio hummed noncommittedly, letting the Italian know he heard but didn’t say much else as his emerald gaze slipped over the older Vargas before settling on the younger brother wrapped around Lovino, his face caked in dirt and his eyes weighed down with such dark bags that Antonio couldn’t fight a wince. “So this is the Feliciano you’ve been searching for.” He commented conversationally, turning his attention from Feliciano back to Lovino. 

More than used to Antonio just saying whatever was on his mind no matter how many times he told him to shut up, Lovino gave him a withering sigh and chanced a glance over at his brother. “…Yeah. This is Feli.” He murmured, reaching over to brush Feliciano’s overgrown bangs from his face. Briefly he wondered if him carding his hand through Feliciano’s hair like this felt the same for him as it had for himself when Antonio had done it for him. 

Somehow he doubted he invoked the same feeling in his brother. 

Antonio watched Lovino shower gentle touches on his brother with a subdued smile on his face. “Never imagined he would be your twin. A lover or a friend maybe, but… wow.” He chuckled quietly, crossing his legs to get into a more comfortable position.

Despite the fatigue weighing down on Lovino’s shoulders, he huffed an amused sound at the admittance that Antonio had thought he had been looking for a lover. “We get that a lot. Or, well, we used to.” He trailed off as the mood in the room took a sudden dip, even the ever cheery Antonio’s grin dimming a bit. “Wait, what are you still doing up?” Lovino changed the subject.

Antonio pursed his lips and smoothed his hands over the wooden floor, probably remembering the blanket he had set down there the other night that he ended up not sleeping in. “I was too worried. Couldn’t sleep.” He admitted.

Lovino didn’t completely buy his excuse. “So Gilbert and Francis were too loud, I take it?”

Antonio rubbed the back of his head sheepishly at being caught. “They were a little too loud for me to be able to sleep on the couch with them there, sí, but I really was worried too.” He cast his eyes over at Feliciano once more. “He looks like he’s adjusting, though. That’s good. I was afraid it would be too much of a shock for him to take. He seems… not fragile, but not like you.” 

All Lovino could do in response to that was roll his eyes. “We’re both different, I know.” He whispered back in a haughty tone. What Antonio was spewing from his mouth was just facts he already knew. It was a few moments before the man spoke up again, but once he did, he immediately had Lovino’s full attention.

“How are you handling this? Are you okay?” Antonio asked, genuine concern lighting up his tired green eyes and sending Lovino’s stomach into knots. 

“I’m alright. I’m more worried about him and how he’s going to handle leaving here and going back out there, though.” Lovino admitted softly after a moment of forcing himself under control. Now wasn’t the time to focus on fucking _butterflies in his stomach_ , of all things. “Marina or not, he’s not going to like having to be forced back out there so soon. I hate the idea of him being so vulnerable, too.”

Antonio made a soft hum and laced his hands together on his lap, looking up at Lovino from the floor. “It won’t be easy, but we’re all here for him. He won’t ever be alone, and I know Ludwig won’t let anything happen to him.”

Lovino made a face at the mention of the hulking man and Antonio couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “He’s a nice man, Lovi. I’ve known him for many years; he’s a loyal person and I would trust him with my life.”

Lovino couldn’t help but scoff at that. “Somehow, I bet you would trust anyone with your life.”

The smile Antonio had been wearing turned into a frown right before Lovino’s eyes. “No, I wouldn’t. Some people… you can’t trust no matter how much you think you should.” He frowned. Lovino didn’t have the chance to question him about the sudden shift in his mood before the Spaniard was speaking again, completely disregarding what he said previously. “You probably won’t want me to, but… could I stay in here tonight?” Antonio’s soft voice met Lovino’s ears, the uncertainty in his tone audible. “I mean, I won’t if you don’t want me to of course! I just thought it would give you peace of mind if I stayed.”

Lovino didn’t have the heart to tell him no even as his head swam with what Antonio said before he asked to stay. The man had promised his life to help him find his brother though, so he reluctantly pushed away the uneasy feeling he had and focused on the question. Shouldn’t he offer the Spaniard some kind of reward as thanks, even if it was just letting him sleep in his own room? “Why would it give me peace of mind?” He questioned just to see what kind of answer he would get, absentmindedly smoothing Feliciano’s hair out of his face.

Antonio glanced from Lovino to Feliciano and then back to the elder brother before he spoke. “I know how it feels to want to keep someone safe. If there are two of us looking out for him then there’s that much less of a chance of something happening.” He ducked his gaze for a moment before meeting the other boy’s fiery hazel eyes almost sheepishly. “I want to protect the both of you just as much as you want to protect him.”

Not for the first time, Lovino found himself speechless for a few moments. “…Because I remind you of ‘someone’, right?” He found himself saying before he could have the chance to think about the fact that maybe Antonio would take offense to his tone and what he was insinuating.

Antonio quickly shook his head, his face so earnest and innocent that Lovino found it hard to listen to whatever he was about to say. “It’s not because of that. At first, I thought you did, and you still do, but… it’s just you. I want to protect you and your brother because you’re _you._ ” He confessed in a quiet voice. “There are a lot of things I live for, and getting you and him to Marina is one of them. After everything you’ve been through, it’s only fair that I help you keep an eye on him.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as the impact of the words he was saying sunk in. “Besides, Ludwig insisted he take the first watch. I don’t have to relieve him until a few hours from now, so I figured I would come see how you two were doing.”

Even though he was higher up than Antonio, he felt so much smaller when compared to the reckless kindness the other man showed. How could he say things like this with such honesty and earnest hope in his eyes? Completely ignoring the part about Ludwig, Lovino slowly shook his head before letting his body flop down onto the mattress and throwing an arm across his eyes. “…I don’t get you.” He confessed softly, only half expecting the Spaniard to hear him.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He heard Antonio ask him, confusion lacing his voice.

Lovino could only sigh. “You say and promise these kind of things without even thinking twice about them. I just… I don’t understand. You’re pledging your life to protect a man you’ve known for a couple of days and one you met a few hours ago.”

The sudden absence of Antonio’s voice worried Lovino enough to peek under the arm he had thrown over his eyes to see if the Spaniard had choked on his spit or something.

He never would have been prepared to see the expression the other was wearing even if he had been told hours ago to expect it. Those vibrant emerald eyes looked almost impossibly darker as they stared unwaveringly at him for a few moments before Antonio’s lips parted and he began to speak. “Does it bother you that I care?” He asked, voice even and honestly a little strained sounding. Lovino fumbled for words under the weight of that stare.

“It’s not that it bothers me,” He spoke carefully, wary of the look he was getting from Antonio at the moment. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it. You’re just… really different and I don’t know how to respond most of the time.” He explained wearily, frustrated at the inability articulate what he wanted to say. It was like there was a roadblock in his mind keeping from reaching the right words.

Antonio seemed to shake himself out of whatever trance he had been in, and for that Lovino was glad. It was honestly starting to make him nervous. Maybe the stress of the day was just starting to get to him now? Lovino didn’t know, but he was glad when Antonio ran a hand down his face before sighing and looking up at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Well, I’m going to protect you both no matter what. Even if you don’t want me to.” He promised, but this time, Lovino only let out a weary breath and curled up against his brother. It didn’t feel the same as it had when he had woken up with Antonio beside him, but it was still warm.

He liked warmth. It meant he was still alive. “Yeah, yeah. Enough talking; just go to sleep already. I’m tired.” He snipped to get Antonio to stop talking and hopefully fully snap out of whatever funk he had been in before. “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow and we don’t need you falling and bashing your own head in because you’re too tired to keep your eyes open.”

Thankfully Antonio didn’t notice the diversion tactic Lovino used, the older man chuckling at his words. “Sí, it is. Get some sleep and I’ll keep watch, okay?” He murmured, speaking softer when Feliciano mumbled in his sleep and scooted closer to his brother. 

Lovino took that as the end of the discussion and simply closed his eyes, determined to ignore the presence that wasn’t Feliciano as he wrapped himself as tightly against his brother as he could and willed himself to sleep. 

He would need the rest.

-

When all was said and done, staying in the apartment while Gilbert and Francis went out on a run to get them enough food for a few days of travel wasn’t that exciting or different than what they had been doing the past few days. Getting up at the crack of dawn when creaking footsteps stole out of the apartment and into the streets below were a usual occurrence by now. All Lovino had to do was find his brother a reliable enough weapon and show him how to use it after he checked the status of the man’s wounded arm. It wasn’t anything major, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Francis and Gil should be coming back soon.” Antonio announced from where he was seated on one of the couch cushions, eyes roving over the books that lined the shelves against the far wall with a sort of calm expression that Lovino didn’t exactly like. 

They were going to be leaving the safe haven that the Spaniard had been holed up in for months, and he was just fine with leaving that safety behind? “Yeah, they are. Once we pack up whatever shit they find, we’ll be leaving.” He commented offhandedly, fishing for a reaction but not getting one. Or at least, not from the person he wanted.

“Lovi, do you think we’ll be able to leave today or can we stay another night here?” Lovino turned his attention to his brother, who was tugging at his sleeve with his borrowed backpack stuffed already. 

“I don’t know what Gilbert is planning, but I’m guessing we’re leaving. We already have a lot of food and supplies so I don’t see why we would stay another night.” Lovino answered from where he was sitting on the floor packing his torn up backpack with as many things as necessary. There weren’t many things in the apartment that he needed to bring, and Ludwig and Feliciano had even less they had to bring. 

“Gilbert said he wanted to leave as soon as he and Francis got back.” Ludwig cut in from where he was seated on the couch beside Antonio, already having finished his packing long ago and helping Feliciano with his own whenever the younger Italian got distracted by something. “He said it would be better since they left so early, so we’ll have a good chance of finding somewhere to stay before night comes.” 

“I remember there being houses and little stores along the highway once we reach that far.” Antonio added as he stuffed the first aid kit into his own bag. 

“How far are they?” Feliciano piped up, turning his attention from Ludwig to the Spaniard beside him. 

Antonio paused for a second before setting his half packed bag on the floor and standing up. “They were about forty five minutes away by car, so probably a few hours away by foot.” He shrugged before giving Lovino a brief look and wandering out into the hall to what Lovino assumed was his room.

Feliciano glanced back at Lovino and Ludwig, the look on his face not exactly screaming pleasure. It was a long way to walk, after all. “And why can’t we use cars again?” He whined, pouting at Ludwig as if the hulking German would give him a favorable answer only to pout even more when the man gave him a stern look.

“You remember what happened on the way here, Feli.” He murmured lowly, ignoring the look Lovino sent his way as he continued packing borrowed clothes from Antonio and Gilbert into his bag. “The cars are too loud. The walkers might not be fast, but they can follow sound as well as a bloodhound can follow a scent.” He sighed. 

The fact that cars were essentially useless wasn’t news to Lovino, but as he watched Antonio leave the room and wander off into his room in search of something, he couldn’t agree more with Ludwig. 

“They’re creepy fuckers.” He agreed, nudging Feliciano when it looked like his brother was about to start up again. They didn’t have much time to finish packing before Francis and Gilbert came back, so he would prefer if they were all ready by the time they returned. He personally preferred not to be a target so early in the morning, though he wasn’t so sure about Ludwig or Antonio. It was a pretty safe bet to guess they didn’t like it either, though. 

The room had just quieted down when a rattling against the window was heard, making both Lovino and Ludwig jump in preparation for a fight when a pale hand smacked the glass and pushed the window up just enough to let a body through, the sound of grunting and groaning accompanying the intruders when two men finally tumbled through and landed on the floor. 

Instantly Lovino stood down, recognizing both of them. “So you’re finally back, huh?” 

“Don’t give me that shit,” Gilbert wheezed as he dropped his crowbar on the ground and shrugged off his backpack, the bag landing with a heavy thump on the ground as Francis dumped his as well and made his way over to the couch, not caring that there was barely enough for two men let alone three as he dropped himself down onto the cushions. “You try getting up at the ass crack of dawn and lug around a trillion pounds of shit through walker infested stores and see how long it takes you.”

Lovino wisely chose to keep his mouth shut when a thud from the room he knew Antonio had been in sounded, the Spaniard rushing into the living room looking like he was prepared for a fight. He was a little late, but Lovino had to give him credit for trying. 

Whatever he had been doing in his room must have taken up all of his attention if he hadn’t heard the ruckus Gilbert made.

“Francis? Gilbert?” Antonio questioned, relaxing when he scanned them and didn’t see any visible injuries. That meant their run had been successful, so he released a relieved breath and wandered over to Francis to check on him.

“Present and accounted for.” Gilbert grunted in response. 

“Mon dieu, I hate going on runs.” Francis sighed as he massaged his sore wrist and turned his head to look at Ludwig and Feliciano before glancing down at their packed bags. “We got everything we need for the next few days though.” He shrugged, not bothered when Antonio came over to him and checked on his wrist. In fact, he looked all too happy to be paid attention to by the Spaniard.

“Exactly,” Gilbert piped up, his bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat. “We’re all packed and ready to go. Franny and I packed our bags this morning before we left, so we can head out as soon as you’re ready.” He said from where he was seated on the floor below the window.

All of a sudden, the mood of the room took a more serious turn, the realization that they were about to leave the only safe haven they knew finally settling in. Planning was one thing, but actually leaving was another matter entirely. It made everything more real, and as Antonio took one last look around the apartment he had called home for however long he had been there, Lovino couldn’t fight down the feeling of unease that crawled down his neck and made the hair on his arms stand on end. 

Something didn’t feel right about leaving this place, but he told himself he was just being ridiculous, and continued to do so until Gilbert triple checked to make sure everyone was properly packed before giving the apartment one last lingering look and committing every little crack to memory. With any luck, should the world ever go back to the way it was, the apartment would still be there. Lovino was sure that was one of the only things reassuring Gilbert that leaving was the right choice. 

“Alright, everyone ready?” The red eyed man asked. 

A sensation of nervous dread rippled through the five men clutching their makeshift weapons as Gilbert lifted the window, hauling his backpack higher up on his shoulders as he prepared to leave their safe haven. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He sighed, taking a second to look each and every person in the eye for a moment, assessing their state of being individually before deeming them ready and stepping foot onto the window frame, back turned to the world outside as his words rang through the room and resonated with an air of finality. “Say goodbye to apartment 212 and hello to the road to Marina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally left the apartment, woo! Now OFF TO MARINA!


	13. The Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The abandoned house at the side of the road holds a lot more than anyone expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I finally updated! To make up for the wait, I made the chapter probably a little too long, but meh. I think I'm going to start doing longer chapters  
> Also, you can find doodles of this au and my other aus on my blog doodle-booty.tumblr.com

The thicket was as dense as the air surrounding them as they moved through the woods, the various foliage scraping Lovino’s skin and snapping under his feet no matter how hard he tried to stay silent. 

It had only been a few hours since they left the apartment for good, and every step they took that led them away from the only place he could call safe only made him more and more anxious. How could it not when they could round a corner and run into a group of walkers at any time? Actually, he was surprised they hadn’t already. They weren’t in the most rural place ever but there was still a good amount of people- or were, at least- there, so the possibility of them running into a few packs was likely. 

The thought alone made him tighten his grip on his knife.

“When are we stopping?” Feliciano whispered as he kept his eyes glued to Ludwig’s back while keeping himself plastered to Lovino’s unarmed side. “We’ve been walking for hours!”

There was a sigh that came from Gilbert’s direction as he ducked out of the way of a low branch. “We can’t stop now if we want to make it to Marina before our supplies run out.” The red eyed man snapped a little more bluntly than he probably intended, his footsteps coming down more harshly in his annoyance. “Don’t wanna go on runs in stores we’re not familiar with if we can help it. It’s more dangerous if we don’t know the layout of the place.”

Lovino could understand his irritation despite his own exhaustion weighing down on him. Feliciano always had a penchant for whining, and he certainly wasn’t about to stop being himself now. In fact, he was glad his brother hadn’t seemed to change given the hell they were all going through. If Feliciano returned to him someone else, he would have still loved him just the same, but there was something comforting in the familiar patterns of his speech and actions. 

It felt like being home.

“We’ll stop soon, Feliciano.” Francis assured him with a quiet smile aimed at the younger Italian’s back from where he was bringing up the rear with Antonio, tossing his screwdriver from hand to hand to keep his fingers from cramping. Lovino thought it might have just been his imagination, but Francis seemed to be sticking to the Spaniard’s side like glue ever since they left the apartment. Not that it mattered of course; as long as someone watched out for Antonio, everything would be fine. “Since we’re not too far away from the main road, it shouldn’t be too much longer until we come across something. I think I remember driving by here a few times.”

There was a tired grumble that Lovino heard pass Antonio and Feliciano’s lips at the statement. He himself was pretty exhausted so he could sympathize with them to an extent, his feet aching in protest at him for walking such a long distance with the added weight of his backpack. Thankfully the woods of Maine were thick enough to keep out the sun’s afternoon rays from beating down on their sweat slicked skin so the heat of the day wasn’t as horrible as it could have been. It was still insufferable, but at least they didn’t have to worry about overheating on top of the apocalypse. 

The subtle crunch of leaves and twigs underneath feet was the only warning he got before another body was suddenly beside him, the earthy smell of the other instantly letting him know who it was before he even spoke. “How are you holding up, Lovi?” A softly accented voice asked him.

Lovino considered the option of staying silent and just shrugging but ultimately decided against it when Feliciano glanced at him from his other side, just as eager for an answer as Antonio was. “I’m fucking fantastic.” He rolled his eyes as he sent Francis a glare over his shoulder when he heard the blonde man scoff at his sarcasm. 

His scathing attitude brought on by nerves didn’t seem to faze Antonio though, the green eyed man glancing between him and Feliciano before reaching around to his backpack and pulling out his water bottle. Or at least that was what Lovino guessed it was from the sloshing sound he heard; he tried to avoid looking at the other man in fear of meeting those stunning eyes that reminded him of a meadow on a sunny day. It was too weird seeing him outside after only seeing him holed up in that apartment for so long, kind of like seeing a fish out of water. “Do you want some of my water?” He asked softly as if reading his mind, the bat in his hand hanging limply at his side as if he weren’t expecting to have to use it. 

For whatever reason, that blatant naiveté angered Lovino immensely despite the kind offer that just passed the other’s lips. Who did this man think he was, letting his guard down like that out in the open? Was he really stupid enough to not realize how much danger they were in right now? “No, I don’t want any of your damn water.” He hissed a little more harshly than intended.

Looking a bit wounded, Antonio wilted a bit and stuffed the bottle back into his bag. His steps fell out of sync with Lovino’s for a moment, and in that time he built himself back up to his usual cheerful self, though he was much more subdued than before.

Lovino could practically feel the irritation and warnings rolling off of Gilbert and Francis in waves.

“…Do you think we’ll run into anyone?” 

Antonio’s soft voice instantly got Lovino’s attention as much as he hated it, everyone in the group seeming to pause for a moment before continuing forward. Lovino wasn’t stupid; he knew everyone was listening now, and he wasn’t afraid to tell them what he thought. Beating around the bush nowadays just put people in danger, so it wasn’t even like he had a choice in the first place. “The only people we’ll run into are the groaning, jaw snapping ones.” He shook his head, tilting his head to look up at Antonio where he was keeping pace beside him. “Don’t get your hopes up for finding anyone breathing, Skittles.”

After that, everyone remained silent for a good half hour, lost in their own thoughts.

It was only after another hour of wandering that the roof of what looked like an isolated town house peeked through thick tree trunks a little ways ahead. It was like a beacon to the exhausted group, and as soon as Feliciano spotted it, his walking efforts tripled. “Can we stop at that house up there?” He begged Gilbert as he tugged on Lovino’s unarmed hand as if grabbing him would help the elder German brother make a favorable decision. 

Gilbert shared a quick look with Ludwig and Francis before looking over at Feliciano. “We’ll check it out. Evening should be coming soon, so we have to find shelter anyway.” He grunted. “We have to scope it out first, though. Can’t be too careful.”

His answer was easily accepted by a tired Feliciano, and no one murmured even a breath of complaint at the decision. Everyone was just as exhausted, dirty and hungry as the younger Italian was, if not more.  


Not a word was said after that as they all carefully plodded along through the woods, slowly making their way to their destination. 

When the house finally came into view, Lovino sucked in a sharp breath. It looked like it was barely on its last leg; the outside rotted and windowsills growing forms of plant life that definitely couldn’t protect against a walker should one try to come in. It had definitely seen better days, and as he scrutinized the tiny house, Lovino came to the decision that the poor thing had seen too much time pass. It had obviously been in disrepair way before this whole hell on earth thing started. In fact, he wondered if the place even had running water. Well, not running, but at least some kind of relatively new technology. He wouldn’t be surprised if they found an outhouse in the yard.

“This place looks like shit.” Lovino sighed, almost afraid to speak too loudly in fear of his voice causing the whole building to collapse. It looked _that_ fragile. 

Gilbert looked like he agreed. “It is pretty shitty looking but there probably isn’t another house around for a while. Besides, it doesn’t seem like there are any walkers around.” He said in a resigned sort of exhaustion, holding out his crowbar off to the side to keep anyone from heading toward the house. They were already in the long driveway leading up to the rotted door; they didn’t need to get closer until it was checked out. “Stay here and scope out the yard. I’ll check out the inside.” He ordered in a no nonsense tone, sharing a long look with Francis and Ludwig before he crept up the warped steps and carefully pushed the door open. The hinges protested loudly at the movement, but he slipped inside without a sound. 

“I can only guess what the backyard is like.” Francis mumbled as Antonio swallowed and tightened his grip on his bat. Just looking at him gave Lovino a headache; he looked like the perfect picture of helplessness, clutching onto the bat in his hands and his whole body wound tight in fear and anticipation. 

He looked pathetic.

“Feli, Skittles, stay here,” Lovino found himself blurting before either of the skittish duo could even think about moving. “I’ll go check the fucking yard.”

Of course, Antonio was the first one to protest. Ludwig didn’t seem to mind the decision as much as the Spaniard, but he did keep his eyes glued to Gilbert until his brother was safely inside. “But-“

“Shut up and stay here. Keep Feliciano from running off.” He waved off the Spaniard’s concern as he gave a curt nod to Francis and Ludwig before he turned and left to do as he said, mentally preparing himself for what he might find.

-

When the coast was proven to be clear, the yard in severe disrepair and overgrown with weeds but safe and the house falling apart but thankfully walker free, Gilbert ushered everyone inside and closed the door behind them, coaxing Ludwig into helping him push an ancient looking bookshelf in front of the door to ensure nothing tried to get in until they were ready to leave. 

“Anything useful in here?” Francis asked once Gilbert and Ludwig were sure the door wasn’t about to be pushed in anytime soon.

“There are a few cans of food in the cupboards and in the basement, but not too much else.” Gilbert grunted in response as he watched everyone slowly amble into the living room, taking in the rotting walls and old furniture that didn’t fit the room at all. “There isn’t anyone in here, either. It’s all clear. Just… don’t go into the room upstairs on the right. It’s not a pretty sight.” He warned, the bags under his eyes seeming so much more prominent as he spoke.

No one had to ask him what was in there. It could mean multiple unpleasant things: a dead body, signs of a struggle gone bad, or just plain old blood stains covering the walls and floor. There wasn’t a need to ask anymore. The dots could be connected without much information after everything they had seen. 

“There aren’t enough beds for all of us.” Feliciano announced as he took in the layout of the house. “I mean, I could sleep with either Luddy or Lovino to save space, but there isn’t much to begin with.” 

Ludwig nodded in agreement. “It would be best to all sleep in the same room. This pace isn’t familiar to any of us and it would be easier to keep everyone safe if we’re all together.”

Ludwig had a point, Lovino had to admit. It would be tons easier to keep watch over a whole house if all its inhabitants were gathered in one place. The only problem was, would they really be able to sleep in the living room? Lovino was sure half of them would just pass out from the exhaustion of walking for most of the day, but there was still that insecure feeling that it wasn’t a good idea. He kept silent about it though, letting everyone else plan out what they were going to do as he let his mind wander. 

Not that it was important at the moment, but despite the heat outside, the air inside of the house was cool due to the walls being made of stone, keeping hot air out and cool air in. It was a nice change from the heat they endured while living in the apartment, but he knew it would quickly become cooler when night came. Cold enough to need blankets and sweatshirts, even.

It seemed Ludwig had the same idea. “If we’re going to be sleeping out here then we should find all the blankets and pillows and pile them down here so we’re not stumbling around in the dark.” He suggested in a gruff voice, glancing between Feliciano and Gilbert before setting his backpack down in the middle of the living room floor and motioning for his brother to follow him. “Gilbert and I will search the rooms upstairs.”

“What about me?” Feliciano asked when he heard he wasn’t part of the Beilschmidt search party, anxiety overtaking his dirty features.

Lovino took one look at his brother and understood what he was feeling. Ludwig and Feliciano had been sticking together for a long time, saving each other from untimely death a number of times, so it made sense that he would have separation anxiety despite being surrounded by able bodied people capable of protecting him. Plus, there was that little issue of the room upstairs Gilbert warned everyone to stay out of. He doubted whatever was in there was something he hadn’t seen already, but he appreciated the warning nevertheless. One less dead body for Feliciano to see, the better.

The boy was too fragile for his own good.

“You go with your brother, Francis, and Antonio.” Ludwig instructed, his voice taking on a soft and understanding tone when he spoke to the younger Italian. “We’ll meet back here as soon as all the blankets and pillows are gathered.”

Feliciano looked like he was about to argue but held himself back when Francis reached out and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder before Lovino could have the chance. “We’ll be with you, Feli. There’s nothing in the house to be afraid of; Gilbert checked it over already. And besides,” He made a gesture toward Antonio with his screw driver, “No one would mess with Antonio.”

Rolling his eyes at Francis’ comment, Lovino ignored him and turned to his brother. “Feli, you’ll be fine and Ludwig will be fine. He has his brother and you have me, so there’s no need to worry.”

Those chocolate orbs regarded him with such trust that Lovino found himself floored for just a second. The only face he was used to seeing that expression on was Antonio’s, so it felt off to see it on someone else.  


“You’re right, Lovi.” Feliciano sighed, watching with no small amount of worry as Ludwig gave him one last assuring look before disappearing up the stairs with Gilbert in tow.

Antonio moved to stand beside Lovino as Francis stayed beside Feliciano, ignoring the glowering man staring at him. “How about Lovi and Feli check the basement while Francis and I look around up here?” The Spaniard suggested, giving the older Italian a look that Lovino identified as understanding.

Goddamn asshole knew he didn’t want to be separated from his brother, and at the moment, Lovino found himself honestly relieved that Antonio was as understanding as he was. “Sounds good. I’ll check the pantry first before I go down, though.”

“Then I’ll just go and see what I can find before you’re done.” Feliciano piped up. “If we get this finished fast then we can help Luddy and Gil, right?”

Antonio didn’t have the heart to say no. “Sure! I’m sure they would appreciate your help.”

Of course the Spaniard would be a pushover when it came to his brother. “Come on, then. Let’s go so you can go help Ludwig.” Lovino grumbled as his brother nodded.

“Making a giant bed in the living room so we can all stick together is a good idea.” Antonio offered his opinion as Feliciano glanced around and wandered his way out of the living room and over to where he thought the basement would be. “Ludwig is a smart man.”

Lovino scoffed at that, letting his brother go off without him as he turned his attention to Antonio. “He’s as bad as Gilbert; he’s just good at hiding it.” 

Antonio frowned at the scoff. “He’s a nice man, Lovino. I’ve known him for a long time, just as long as I’ve known Gilbert. He’s really someone anyone would be lucky to have as a friend.” He argued softly as he set about shuffling around the downstairs in search of blankets, pulling open one dusty cupboard after another as Lovino followed behind him in search of the pantry while Francis just searched the living room, giving them both time to talk alone.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Lovino crossed his arms and put his knife away, leaning out of the way when Antonio tugged open a particularly dusty closet. “Goddammit, why are there so many cupboards? Doesn’t this place have enough?” He complained as he sidestepped the cloud that came out and nearly choked Antonio, leaving his side with nothing more than a shake of his head as he finally neared the pantry Gilbert had mentioned. 

After seeing how much dust came out of the doors Antonio had opened, Lovino gently eased the old pantry door open so he wouldn’t be bombarded with a cloud of dust and germs, but right as he did, an odd feeling settled in the pit of his gut. Call it intuition, but he knew something was wrong. 

A sharp clatter and a scream suddenly tore through the house, the air suddenly charged with dread as Lovino abandoned the pantry and barreled down the hall and into the basement where Feliciano had wandered off to. A multitude of possibilities crossed his mind as he bounded down those steps two at a time. Had his brother tripped and fell? Did he see a rat and get spooked? The possibilities were endless, but even so, there was no mistaking that kind of guttural scream. 

After living through hell for so long, Lovino knew what the sound of true fear sounded like.

Gilbert said he checked every room and even if he loathed to admit it, he knew the red eyed man was thorough, so the reason for Feliciano screaming was just as confusing as it was frightening, but as he reached the bottom of the steps and took in the scene in front of him, he froze.

A little girl with matted and knotted brown hair pulled into one intact pigtail was snapping her growling jaws at Feliciano where he had fallen onto his backside and gaped at the walker in horror, the one tattered blanket he had managed to find resting on the dusty floor beside him in a heap. A walker child was scary enough, but this particular kid looked like she had been through a lot more than the usual walkers had.

She was tied by the neck to a support beam, the slight slack of the chain around her neck keeping her from tearing his little bother to shreds, the chains creaking and groaning as she repeatedly tried to lunge at him, her little fingers scrambling at the collar around her neck as if she somehow knew that was the only obstacle keeping her from reaching her prey. As it was, her foggy brown eyes didn’t stray from Feliciano even once even as the room quickly filled with their whole group of survivors, her clouded pupils staring at him with a kind of laser focus that unsettled Lovino on multiple levels.

If Lovino hadn’t been terrified of losing Feliciano, he would have thrown up at the sight of her torn up and bloody skin. 

“ _FELI!_ ” He cried out, making a move to rush to his brother when a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye got his attention, a blur of curls passing him easily and rushing toward the two on the floor. It took him a second to realize who it was, but once he did, he couldn’t help but gape despite his legs being frozen.

Antonio was by no means a small man. Lovino had seen his arms when he wore short sleeved shirts; he was strong, but chose to be gentle. If he wanted to, he could have taken his bat and struck the little girl in the head with enough force to crack her skull, ending her existence with one move. He had the perfect opportunity to kill her. But he didn’t. Instead he tossed his bat to the side without a second thought and rushed toward Feliciano before Lovino even had the chance to come to terms with the scene around him.

“Feli, are you hurt?!” Antonio demanded in a rush, seemingly ignoring the chained walker in close proximity for a moment in favor of grabbing Feliciano and dragging him away from her and toward the wall, knocking over an old rocking chair in his haste. The crash served to mix with the sound of three pairs of footsteps thundering down the stairs.

Lovino wanted to be furious that he didn’t take the chance to take the walker out, he really did, but the fact that Antonio threw away his weapon in favor of protecting his brother mediated his anger some. 

“Gilbert, what the _fuck?!_ ” Lovino snarled as Gilbert shook himself from his shock and silenced the snarling girl with a crack of his crowbar to the head, no amount of hesitation in his attack. Her limp body hit the ground like bag of bricks, tattered blue dress stained red fluttering around her as she hit the dirty floor with a sickening crack. Her knotted hair fell around her like a grotesque halo, the one red ribbon still intact blending with the blood that poured thickly from her head. 

“I swear she wasn’t down here when I checked!” Gilbert protested breathlessly, still in shock that a walker had been so close to them the whole time. Chained, yes, but still lethal. 

“She's fucking _chained to the wall_ , how did you not see her?!” Lovino snarled, adopting a fighting stance as his terror turned into frustration. 

“She must have been over here.” Francis added from where he had rounded the corner to take in the more deteriorated corner of the basement, defusing the ensuing fight before he even knew it was happening. To be honest, Lovino had forgotten about him until he spoke up. “I think you should see this.”

Mind still caught up in a storm of adrenaline and panic, Lovino had to fight through the fear in his mind to comprehend what Francis was saying. “W-what?” He croaked roughly, rooted to the spot and unable to tear his eyes away from the little girl that lay motionless on the ground a mere foot or two from a shaking Feliciano and an oddly protective Antonio after he decided to ignore Gilbert. She had the same innocent look about her that Peter had, though she was covered in much more blood and significantly more roughed up than the boy had been.

He only snapped out of his daze when he heard Ludwig immediately rushing to his brother’s side while Gilbert took in the situation and brought himself to Francis’ side, his eyes blowing wide at what he saw. “Holy shit…” he murmured, slapping a hand over his mouth and looking away from whatever it was that lay beyond the corner, the hitch in his chest telling Lovino that he was resisting the urge to dry heave. 

“W-what?” Lovino found himself asking, curiosity too strong to ignore as he took in the paleness of Gilbert’s face and the disgusted look on Francis’. 

“These bones… there’s no reason for them to be down here, or for there to be this many. There are parts of the skull here that are from more than one person, so unless a bunch of people managed to get trapped down here in this one corner…” Francis trailed off, looking sick as he let the implications of what he was saying sink in. 

“Someone was feeding people to her.” Gilbert finished in a harsh whisper, making sure Feliciano and Antonio didn’t hear him as he sharply turned his head away from the bloody pile of bones and stumbled over to Ludwig, who was checking Feliciano over for injures almost frantically. He said a few things in a language Lovino didn’t understand before Ludwig paled and glanced down at Feliciano who was trembling in his arms, taking in a deep breath before nodding to his brother and replying. 

“Lovino,” Francis started as he pushed himself back up and cast the pile of bones a sympathetic look before refocusing on the Italian in front of him. “Don’t be mad at Gilbert for not seeing her. He’s… there’s a lot on his mind right now.”

With adrenaline slowly leaving him tired and so fucking _done_ with walkers and everything about the fucking house, Lovino sighed harshly through his nose before leveling Francis with a stern look and striding over to his brother with more confidence than he felt. The fact that whoever lived here before them had _fed_ living people to the girl made his stomach churn, but he had to keep strong for his brother. 

Feliciano couldn’t know what they had found. 

“ _Feli, are you hurt?_ ” He asked quickly in Italian, casting Antonio a quick glance before kneeling in front of his brother and forcing his instinct to lash out back when Feliciano launched himself from Ludwig’s arms into Lovino’s own, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his face into his chest as a terrified sob left his throat. 

“S-si, si, I’m okay.” He responded in wobbly English, squeezing Lovino tightly for a few more seconds before letting go and wiping at his face, refusing to look at the body on the floor. Lovino couldn’t blame him for that; seeing a walker taken down was never a pretty sight, and the smell alone was enough to make him gag sometimes, but to see a little girl like this chained… it made him feel bad for the person she used to be. 

“Come on, let’s get you out of this fucking basement.” He crooned to his brother in a more calming tone than he thought he could manage after the heart attack he very nearly experienced, gently coaxing Feliciano from Ludwig’s side and helping him over to the stairs, making sure he didn’t see the carcass on the floor, still chained and so, so bloody. “I’ll get you tucked in under the best blanket and take first watch, okay?”  


Feliciano nodded stiffly from where he was pressed against Lovino’s side and stumbled up the stairs with him, running on autopilot as he tried to process what happened moments before. He was traumatized, Lovino knew that look, so he didn’t say anything else as he lead his bother to the pile of blankets Ludwig and Gilbert seemed to have gathered earlier and quickly made a makeshift bed for the boy, not caring that it was only early evening at that point as he patted the blankets in a gesture for him to lay down. 

Gingerly, Feliciano lowered himself onto the blankets and laid down, his eyes focused solely on Lovino until Ludwig came rushing up the basement stairs and nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get to his brother’s side. 

In a strange sort of way, Ludwig reminded him of Antonio right then. “Hey,” He grunted at Ludwig, only slightly amused when the hulking man instantly glanced up at him from where he was kneeling down beside Feliciano. Even Antonio and everyone else looked up at him as they came up from the basement, probably having been covering the bones so Feliciano didn’t go back down there and see them. “I’ll take first watch tonight. I won’t be able to sleep, so make sure he rests. You fucking got it?”

It made sense for him to take first watch since he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep until the early hours of the morning, so he was only partially bitter about Feliciano seeking out comfort from Ludwig instead of him as he watched the bundled up form of his brother reach out for the imposing Ludwig and relax when the German murmured soothing words to him, giving Lovino a sharp nod as he tucked the ratty blankets tighter around the younger twin’s lean frame. 

-

By the time midnight had rolled around and the moon was just high enough in the sky to let whoever was left alive know that it was around one in the morning, Antonio felt someone jostling him by the shoulder, the action leading to him looking up into the gaze of a bleary eyed Lovino. “Lovi?” He whispered tiredly, rubbing his eyes as he sat up where he had been curled up on the floor with his back to the ancient couch. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Lovino shook his head and nudged Antonio’s shoulder none too gently, urging him to give up his warm spot on the floor. “’s nothing. Just tired. Your turn for watch.” He mumbled, effectively pushing Antonio out of his spot and stealing the warmth of his blankets without a second thought, and as much as Antonio tried to be upset, he couldn’t be anything other than impressed that Lovino managed to contort himself into such a tight little ball, making sure to keep himself facing Feliciano as he settled down for well deserved sleep. 

“Oh,” Antonio muttered intelligently, unable to do nothing but stare as Lovino got comfortable before sighing and pushing himself up to wander over to the corner of the room the Italian had been at before, carefully stepping over Francis and Gilbert to avoid waking them up. Having them be conscious would defeat the purpose of him keeping watch, so as he settled against the far wall and leaned his head against the chipping paint, he let out a soft sigh and ran a hand through his hair to wake himself up a bit.

The house was completely silent aside from the wind rattling the window frames and the creaking of the floorboards, their old age making them noisier than he as used to in their old apartment. Oh well, at least Gilbert’s occasional snores were a comfortable constant. 

He had been about to resign himself to staying up until he couldn’t possibly keep his eyes open any longer when a soft noise in the corner of the room caught his attention, the sound of someone mumbling meeting his ears. 

Out of all the people still awake, the only one conscious was Feliciano. Antonio only knew it was him because he heard the rustling coming from his direction, and no one else there would ever think to be that noisy at night. 

“Still awake?” Antonio whispered into the darkness, hearing a soft hum of confirmation as a body settled beside him, a slim leg knocking their knees together in an action that was almost playful.

“Si. I can’t sleep. Still a little shaken up, I guess.” Feliciano murmured, lacing his fingers together in his lap as he crossed his legs and stared down at the space between his thighs and the floor.

Antonio made a soft sound of understanding. “I can understand that. That was quite a shock. Actually, I’m surprised none of us had a heart attack back there.” 

Feliciano chuckled at that. “Yeah. I think Ludwig had a year or two shaved off his life from that scare. Actually, with all the scares I’ve given him over the past few months, I’ll be surprised if he makes it past thirty.” He laughed softly.

Antonio couldn’t help but chuckle. The dark humor sounded odd coming from someone so lighthearted, but he supposed during these times, everyone was allowed a dark moment or two. “I feel the same way about Lovino. He’s given me enough consecutive heart attacks to last me a lifetime.”

At the mention of his brother, Feliciano’s mood seemed to dampen before he was back to his usual self. “His impulsive streak and stubbornness, I’m guessing?”

“Ah, something like that. He’s just… really passionate about things, you know? He almost walked straight out into a group of walkers the first night because he was so desperate to find you.”

Feliciano smiled softly. “That sounds like him.” He muttered gently, letting their conversation lapse into companionable silence. Nothing but the sound of crickets outside and the occasional creak and groan of the house pierced the silence for a long time, not until a sudden exhale from the young Italian shattered the quiet. “Hey Antonio, can you promise me something?”

Instantly, Antonio had his attention on Feliciano and Feliciano alone. There was a heaviness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, and it got his heart pounding. 

“I don’t really know how to say this,” Feliciano began in a small voice, the shy but resigned tone in his voice setting Antonio on edge for some reason. “But Lovino… he trusts you. I can see why he does; you’re kind and gentle, which is just what my brother needs. He’s always had trouble relating to people without making them angry, and for some reason, you two just seem to… click, in a way. You don’t get angry at him like I’ve seen countless other people get. He trusts you with his life even if he doesn’t say it, just like I trust mine to Ludwig.”

Antonio didn’t know where all this was coming from, but at the mention of Lovino trusting him with his life, however true of a statement that may be, he felt his heart pound in his chest. “Feli…”

Feliciano shook his head in a silent plea to let him finish. “Ah, I’m sorry, I’m getting carried away, aren’t I?” He chuckled more lightheartedly than seemed acceptable for the heavy atmosphere he was setting. “I just… want to ask you a favor. I couldn’t ask earlier because Lovino was on watch, but he’s passed out now.”

At that point, there was no way Antonio could say no. “What do you need?” He asked almost hesitantly.

A rueful smile tugged at Feliciano’s lips, the expression not sitting right on his face. It looked too much like Lovino, if Antonio were honest, and it just didn’t fit him. “Protect Lovino. Cherish him like he deserves. Be honest with him and look out for him. He’s lonely, Antonio. He always has been.” He sighed as if this had been weighing down on him for years. “It’s part of his personality, being standoffish and guarding his emotions. But… don’t tell him I told you this, okay? When he was sleeping that first night at the apartment, he had a nightmare. It wasn’t bad, nothing like the dreams Ludwig has, but the name he called out…” Feliciano trailed off and seemed to struggle with himself for the courage to say what he wanted, and Antonio found himself hanging on his every word. “He called your name. He was calling for you in his sleep to help him. Not me, not Gilbert, not Francis… _you._ ”

All at once it felt like someone had taken all the blood in his body and sent it to his chest, his heart feeling warm and his cheeks stinging with the urge to smile. It wasn’t a situation to be happy about and Antonio felt like trash for finding joy in the fact that the elder Italian brother had called for him in a time of need, but at the moment, the fact that Lovino said his name made him so happy he didn’t know whether to be disgusted with himself or bask in the fact that Lovino trusted him enough to call out to him when he thought he was in danger. 

After studying Antonio’s expression for a few seconds, Feliciano averted his gaze and kept his eyes resolutely glued to the floor. “You saved him and gave him a home when he lost his; you even saved me down in the basement before he could even realize what was going on. He’ll probably never tell you this himself, but he appreciates that more than he can ever express. Having something, _someone_ , to hold onto these days… it makes all the difference in the world.”

All of this was so much for Antonio to take in. When he had volunteered to take watch, he had no idea he would be told all of these things, but that didn’t seem to deter Feliciano. 

In fact, it made him even more desperate to tell the Spaniard these things. Lifting his gaze from where it had been on the floor, Feliciano’s lisp hardened into a thin line while the stress of the life they were living showed on his face, the bags under his eyes and the haunted look in his irises cutting Antonio deep without a word having to be said. “What I’m getting at is, if something ever happens to me, please… promise me you’ll take care of him.”

The sudden seriousness in Feliciano’s normally more upbeat voice and expression floored Antonio for a moment. What could he say to that? ‘No’? Denying him this wish was almost laughable. He just couldn’t do it, not with Feliciano suddenly looking so small and breakable beside him. “Feli-“

“ _Promise me_ , Antonio.”

A tense moment of silence passed between them, during which Antonio didn’t know what to say. Feliciano almost seemed desperate for him to promise him this, almost like it was a dying wish, and even though he had long ago pledged to protect the both of them, he found his hands shaking as he met those intense chocolate eyes and felt the words leave his mouth before he heard them. 

“I promise.”


	14. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected twist of events happens. Antonio is prepared, but is anyone else?

When morning came, Lovino awoke slowly, rubbing the sleep out from his eyes and blearily taking in his surroundings with a kind of detachment that only came from having done the particular action hundreds of times before. 

The house they were holed up in was just as dirty and ancient as it had been last night, but something felt… off. He couldn’t put what he was feeling into one word, but he swore it felt like a cold shiver was hovering over his neck, his heart pounding in his chest and the hair on his arms standing up. The faint sound of something thumping a little ways off didn’t make him feel too good either.

He supposed it was just a coincidence that the first eyes that he met that morning were Antonio’s bright grassy ones as the Spaniard came racing over to him from the base of the stairs. “Skittles,” He began, voice deep from sleep and body sluggish as he pushed himself up onto his elbows amongst the mess of blankets tangled around his legs. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Feliciano,” Antonio blurted without a hint of hesitation, the dark rings under his eyes letting Lovino know that his night of keeping watch had been a little too successful. “I think he’s sick. He has a high fever and isn’t responding coherently.” 

The only words Lovino heard were ‘Feliciano’ and ‘sick’. Illnesses nowadays had the possibility of becoming fatal without the use of modern medicine or doctors to accurately diagnose what was wrong, and against all reason, he assumed the worst was happening.

Instantly he whipped his gaze around the room to seek out his brother, panic biting at him when he couldn’t find him. “Where-“

“He and Ludwig are upstairs in one of the bedrooms. Francis and I moved him because sleeping on the floor wasn’t doing him any favors.” 

Lovino didn’t register that his feet were carrying him up the stairs two at a time, his sore body aching and protesting at the sudden movement but his limbs carrying him as fast as they could go all the same. 

The possibilities of what was going on were endless- well, he supposed not endless, but there was a pretty wide range of what Feliciano could have come down with considering the state of the house they were staying in. Had he inhaled mold or been bitten by some kind of poisonous bug during the night? He just didn’t know, and as he reached the second floor and nearly fell over himself as he threw open the door to the room he knew his brother was in, Lovino sucked in a sharp breath and took in the scene.

Feliciano was curled up in a ball caged in Ludwig’s arms on the bed with the best blanket they could find wrapped around him, the younger German brother almost as pale as the man in his embrace. Feliciano’s face was buried in Ludwig’s chest and his ragged breathing filled the air like every inhale was taxing on his body. Just the sound alone was enough to get Lovino’s heart to nearly stop, goosebumps erupting across his skin as a sense of complete _wrongness_ hit him. Feliciano held tightly to one of Ludwig's trembling hands in his own, holding it to his heart as he struggled for breath. He looked like he was truly struggling, and it tore at Lovino's heartstrings. 

Feliciano had been just fine last night. He had been shaken up from what happened in the basement, sure, but not sick enough to rationalize looking like he had one foot in the grave, so why did he look like this? Lovino just couldn’t make the connections in his mind, but that didn’t make him any less terrified. To put it bluntly, his brother looked like shit. 

“He was like this when I woke up.” Francis said in a grave as Lovino froze. “He demanded to see Ludwig and wouldn’t stop until he got here, sobbing about how sorry he was. Won't say why he's sorry, though.” 

Antonio stepped into the room beside him, standing at his side and refusing to budge even as Lovino stumbled forward and knelt at the edge of the bed closest to his brother. “I checked his temperature, and even though we can’t get an actual number, he’s… well, he has a high fever. I couldn’t find any medicine around the house to bring it down, so we’re going to just have to let him sweat it out.” Antonio paused to wet his lips, refusing to meet Lovino’s eyes as he finished stating his findings. “He should be fine if this is what I think it is. If it’s anything more than a fever… I don’t know what more we can do.”

A strangled sound left Feliciano’s lips as he struggled to breathe normally.

Ludwig quickly glanced up at Antonio at the diagnosis. “We can go out and raid a store,” He insisted, his usual gruff voice weighed down by the anxiety Feliciano’s situation was inflicting upon him. “Maybe a house around here has something we can take.”

It wasn’t fair; he wasn’t related to Feliciano in any way, yet Ludwig looked like he was close to tears as he suggested anything he could come up with. It was true he didn’t know what happened between the younger Beilschmidt and his brother, but the way Feliciano curled up against him in search of comfort instead of his own older brother spoke volumes. It was sickening, the look of devotion and terror in the clouded blue eyes of the blonde man.

Gilbert sighed and ran a hand back through his hair as his brother fervently tried to convince them to leave the house and go seek out medicine. “We can’t, Luddy. There isn’t another store around here for miles.” He admitted as he cast his gaze off to the side, shifting where he stood to lean more on his left foot than the right. “I didn’t want to say anything before, but I’ve been down the road a ways from here. It’s just barren all the way until we hit the next town, which should take us another day or so. It’s good for avoiding walkers, but… I didn’t think anyone would get sick like this.” 

Lovino swore he could have killed the red eyed man, and with the surge of fury he felt light up his veins at the confession, he guessed he would have been able to if he tried. “What the fuck, Gilbert?!” He snarled, turning glaring watery hazel eyes to the other man and growling at him. “You brought us out into the middle of nowhere knowing that something like this could happen? What were you _thinking?!”_

“I was thinking ‘wow, the middle of nowhere sure has a lot less walkers!’” Gilbert snapped back, the tension in the room growing tenfold now that he had taken the bait Lovino had laid out. “Going up against the odds of one of us getting sick was a lot better than the ones we would have had we gone through an area infested with walkers. You know that!”

“Like fuck I do! I’d rather take on a hundred walkers than see Feliciano like this!” Lovino screeched, not paying any attention to how loud he was being. “What if we can’t do anything for this? What if he has pneumonia and we can’t get him antibiotics? What if he-” he choked back a sob at where he had been going with that sentence.

“He won’t.” Antonio cut in, sounding oddly calm for all the commotion going on around him. In all the time Lovino had known him, which admittedly wasn’t much, the one thing he learned about the man was that he was easily affected by the emotions of the people around him. It was a characteristic that would have been admirable a few months ago, but instead just made him more vulnerable now. “I promised to protect him, and I will. I’ll stay up with him all night and keep his fever down. There are ways to do it without medicine and fever reducers.”

“Antonio-” Francis began.

“No, let him. I’ll take watch. But Gilbert,” Lovino interrupted, turning his piercing gaze to the older German brother for a moment from where he was leaning against the mattress beside his brother before refocusing on the man on the bed, keeping his gaze glued on every rise and fall of Feliciano’s chest as he spoke. “If something happens to him because of this wild goose chase you’ve sent us on, I’ll kill you without hesitation.” 

Normally, Gilbert would have laughed off the threat. He would have mocked Lovino for thinking he was good enough to kill him, but not so much as a chuckle passed the pale man’s lips. Perhaps it was the guilt weighing down on him that kept him quiet, but he didn’t make a sound. 

“Antonio.” Lovino barked once he was sure Gilbert wasn’t going to try and challenge him. “You said we don’t need medicine to bring his fever down. What do we need to get Feliciano back to health?”

For a moment, Antonio was stunned. Lovino knew he was shocked when he heard the man suck in a surprised breath and faltered for words. It really shouldn’t have affected him so strongly to learn that Lovino trusted him enough to lend him advice on taking care of his brother, but the Italian supposed it was warranted because he was a little harsh on Antonio sometimes. 

Still, Antonio came back to himself and responded. “Putting him in a lukewarm bath would bring his temperature down,” He began, glancing back and forth between Lovino’s back and Feliciano. “But we can’t exactly run him a bath, so the next best thing is getting a lukewarm cloth and placing it on his forehead. It’ll help if we run it along his arms to try and cool him down.” 

Lovino frowned as he took in his brother’s shaking and pale form, his hands itching to reach out and comfort him but unable to due to the fact that Ludwig was already holding him. “Then go get my water bottle and find a rag.” He instructed after a moment of consideration, his voice dropping a bit as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. It wouldn’t do anyone any good to hear how terrified he was. “Please.” He added after a few seconds of silence. 

If Antonio hadn’t left after that whispered plea, Lovino didn’t know what he would do. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move due to the fear he could still feel pounding through his veins in time to the stomping of Antonio rushing back downstairs to grab his backpack. 

In the loaded silence that shrouded the room, Lovino found himself studying Feliciano even closer. His eyes had horrible bags underneath them and his skin was frighteningly pale and sweaty with a fresh sheen of sweat, a stark contrast to how he usually looked. Even his dirty hair looked worse, which was a considerable feat given how filthy they all were. It wasn't like the end of the world supplied them with showers.

“Lovino,” Ludwig called out to him, prompting the older Italian to reluctantly glance up to catch the German’s eyes, not caring at this point that his own were beginning to water as he listened to Feliciano’s labored breathing. “He’ll be okay. He’s strong.” 

To Lovino, it sounded more like Ludwig was trying to convince himself than anyone else. Gilbert even cast his brother a sympathetic look at that, probably understanding that this was just part of Ludwig’s coping process. “You don’t need to tell me how strong my own fucking brother is.” Lovino retorted without too much bite, too tired to put in the effort of sounding offended as Antonio came barreling into the room with his own backpack in hand, not even through the doorway before he was tugging the zipper open and yanking out his water bottle and holding up an odd looking strip of cloth. 

“I brought mine because I couldn’t find yours,” Antonio panted, thrusting the cloth into Lovino’s hands and sticking the water bottle under his armpit to hopefully warm it up. If they stuck a cold cloth on Feliciano’s forehead, with his high temperature, it would be a shock to his body that his system really didn’t need. “I figure you want to be the one to do this, right?” He asked as he glanced around the room at the various serious and grim faces of their group. 

Lovino nodded without even having to think about it, watching with baited breath as Antonio warmed up his water until he deemed it good enough, uncapping it and carefully pouring some onto a piece of cloth that looked like it had been ripped off a curtain. Given their limited resources, he didn’t doubt that was exactly what it was. 

No one was going to miss those curtains. 

“This should be the right temperature.” Antonio informed him as he handed over the damp cloth.

Lovino took it and without hesitation moved closer to his brother’s side so he could get to him. “Move over, Ludwig.” He ordered without chancing a glance up at the blonde man, focusing solely on his brother.  


At the barked order, Ludwig unwillingly loosened his grip on Feliciano and backed off a bit, just enough to let Lovino work on him, and work he did. 

“Hey Feli,” Lovino cooed as he brushed Feliciano’s bangs off his sweaty forehead and placed the cloth on his feverish skin, letting it rest there as he took in the flushed but undeniably sick look on the boy’s face that bore so much resemblance to his own. His eyes weren’t open, assumedly because they were sensitive to the light, and his breathing was uneven and choppy, harsh sounding to Lovino’s ears. “You’re gonna be fine, okay? Antonio and I are going to take care of you,” he promised, missing the glance Francis and Gilbert exchanged.

-

As the day wore on and Feliciano’s fever didn’t get any better, Antonio decided it was best if everyone get some rest while he stayed up tending to him. It made sense, at least to Lovino. The less people were in the room, the less of a distraction there was for Feliciano. If he couldn’t sleep off whatever this was, then everything they were doing would be for nothing. Lovino didn't want to think about what that implied, so he didn't argue or oppose Antonio when he said he needed something.

Ludwig and Francis had been elected to sleep first and have Lovino and Gilbert keep first watch, a decision which Ludwig initially protested against but gave in when Antonio told him it would be best if he were rested in case Feliciano needed him. 

That had made Lovino a little upset, but he knew Antonio hadn’t meant anything by it. He was just being himself, and it wasn’t as if he could yell at him for that.

So instead of protesting the decision, he laid down on the couch downstairs with Gilbert sitting on the floor with his back to the cushions. It was the perfect time to think things through; there was no noise other than the creaking of the floorboards and the sound of wind rattling the window frames to distract him.

If what Feliciano had was just a fever, then Lovino knew Antonio would be able to help him through it. The Spaniard said it would only be bad if his brother had pneumonia or some kind of flu, but he wouldn’t allow himself to think about it. He couldn’t, so he decided to think of something else.

There, in the lull of night with darkness shrouding their shoulders like a blanket and bathing them in sweet oblivion, Lovino finally allowed himself to ask what had been burning in the back of his mind ever since he laid eyes on Antonio in Walmart. “What’s wrong with him?” He inquired softly, resisting the urge to flinch at how careless the question came out but knowing it was too late to take it back as Gilbert’s attention snapped toward him from where he had been staring at the barricaded door, his reddish brown eyes like glowing rubies in what little moonlight filtered into the room.

“What do you mean?” Gilbert hedged, something Lovino didn’t appreciate but could understand to some extent. It was obvious whatever he was asking was a sore subject for the albino, but he couldn’t take it back now. Not when he was so close to getting answers. 

The way he reacted almost made Lovino feel ashamed for asking, but bashfulness had left him a long time ago. “Antonio.” He clarified, jerking his head toward the slumbering Spaniard curled up under the window. “What’s wrong with him? Why isn’t he allowed to fight like everyone else?” He asked much more delicately this time, wary of being rejected should Gilbert not like his tone of voice. It seemed like he understood well enough though, the expression on his face suddenly looking much more ancient than it had any right to be.

The sight only made his curiosity burn as the silence stretched around them, Gilbert looking increasingly more uncomfortable and restless the longer it went on. 

Finally, Lovino couldn’t take it anymore. “Did you hear me? I asked-“

“I heard you.” Gilbert grunted, running a hand back through his hair as he seemed to pull himself together. “I just… I don’t know how to start.” He admitted after a few moments.

Well, at least now they were getting somewhere. “Then start from the beginning.” Lovino offered, bringing his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them before resting his chin on his knees. If he was going to listen to a life story, he was going to be comfortable dammit.

“It’s not exactly a short story.” Gilbert grumbled. 

“Does it look like I have anywhere else I have to be?” Lovino retorted, crossing his arms and sending the German a look that implied there was no way he was getting out of this. 

Taking the Italian’s words into consideration minus the sass, Gilbert sighed and crossed his legs as he propped his elbows on them. “I’ve known Antonio since we were snot nosed little kids running around and creating problems for everyone.” He broke the heavy silence that settled around them, expression far away as memories undoubtedly played out in his head. “I was the first friend he made when he moved here fresh from Spain at the age of 8. We met Francis when we were 9. God, Antonio’s accent was thicker than either of ours back then. Could hardly understand a thing the poor kid said.” Something close to fondness flickered through Gilbert’s eyes they both shifted their gazes to the window, the light from the moon ensnaring Lovino for a second before the man beside him spoke up again. “Shit, he could barely speak English. Kids made fun of him a lot for it, all the way into high school until he learned how to hide his accent better, but I’m getting off track.” Gilbert stopped himself before he could go down the memory lane he had been trying to avoid. Lovino understood.

Thinking about the past so deeply would only make the present that much more unbearable. 

“What I’m trying to say is that I grew up with him. I was there when he rode his first bike, when he got his first car and got in and out of his first relationship.” Gilbert continued in hushed tones. “I was there through it all, right by his side. I never left, and neither did Francis, even when we started noticing things.” 

It took every ounce of self-control Lovino had no to open his mouth and ask what kind of things Gilbert was getting at, but the way the German man looked at him made him keep his mouth shut. 

With a sigh, the heaviness in Gilbert’s eyes gave way to weariness, one of his hands running up over his face and into his hair. “There isn’t anything wrong with Antonio, per se.” Gilbert hesitated. “It’s just how he deals with everything, past and present.”

“He decided to be a liability?” Lovino asked incredulously, forgetting to be sensitive when Gilbert flashed him a disapproving look. 

“Do you want to hear the story or not?” Gilbert snapped at him, not in the mood for listening to his friend being insulted, especially when he was upstairs taking care of Feliciano as they spoke. 

Taking the hint, Lovino shut up.

Giving the Italian a withering look until he deemed it safe to continue, Gilbert leaned back against the couch and heaved a sigh. “To kill a monster, you have to become one yourself.” Gilbert said, tone grave as he ran a hand back through his hair. “Antonio can’t do that. Never could.” A wry smile graced his lips as he looked over at the slumbering chocolate haired boy they were discussing. “Hell, the kid still can’t even step on ants on the sidewalk at the age of 23, let alone get even with people who hurt him.”

Lovino held his tongue, listening with rapt attention as every word Gilbert said sank in. It seemed the other was struggling with how to word what he wanted to say next though.

“It takes a special kind of person to be surrounded by monsters and not become one yourself.” Gilbert added almost as an afterthought, glancing at the slumbering man as he spoke.

“We’re all monsters to some degree.” Lovino murmured, the images of people- no, monsters that he had cut down flashing through his mind without his permission. 

A sad sort of smile graced Gilbert’s lips as he silently agreed. 

“That’s true, but Francis and I, we… we’re different than him. We can cope with the world we’re living in right now. We can adapt, can become what we need to be to survive. Antonio, though… he adapted in a way that worries us sometimes.” he trailed off, turning his attention to Lovino as every trace of humor left his eyes. “It’s not my place to tell you what happened and he doesn’t like talking about it, so I wouldn’t advise asking him. Just know that he’s been through much more than either of us before all of this happened and getting mad at him isn’t going to help.” 

And just like that, Lovino was back to square one with his curiosity. 

“What do you mean by ‘adapted in a way that worries us’?” Lovino inquired, hesitant in asking but needing to know the answer. 

Gilbert was quiet for a few moments before taking a glance at the sleeping Spaniard a few feet away from them. “I can’t really say anything without overstepping my boundaries. It’s not my place to tell you, like I said earlier.” He frowned. “But… I guess I can give you a general idea without going into specifics.” 

Lovino nodded, unable to pass up the opportunity despite feeling like it was some sort of betrayal to Antonio. To hear it from his friend’s lips was much different than hearing it from his own lips, something he felt would have been a better option. 

It was a shame that his curiosity was too strong to ignore. 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard of any situations like this,” Gilbert began. “But Antonio… he has a lot of anger in him. When he gets taunted and fights, it’s like he’s a completely different person, and it’s horrifying. Some people who go through traumatizing events have their mentality split, becoming two different people inside one body. There’s a word for it but I can’t remember what it is.” He shrugged, the inability to recall what the name obviously not holding too much importance to him. “As I was saying, it’s a phenomena where people create alter egos to deal with the things they can’t bear with, or sometimes their ‘other self’ comes out to do what their real self can’t do.” 

Lovino didn’t like where this was going. 

“Antonio used to take medicine and go to therapy for his little problem, and the therapist would prescribe him stuff that would help him relax and not get so angry all the time. His anger is the trigger that brings out his other side.” Gilbert made an offhanded gesture to the window. “Not like we can get any of the medicine now, of course. But back then, it really helped him. Without it, Francis and I don’t know what to do. The most we can do to help is to keep him from fighting and away from as many triggering situations as we can while helping him survive another day.”

Lovino was silent for a long moment, letting the information sink in. “So he has split personalities?” He tried, fighting to work this out. 

“Not split personalities. Just… dammit, I don’t know how to explain it.” He denied, thinking for a moment before opening his mouth and sending chills down Lovino’s spine with his words. 

“Try.” Lovino challenged, waiting with baited breath as the man beside him closed his eyes for a few moments to collect himself before opening his mouth.

“We’re all walking a line, Lovino. A fine line between humanity and madness. Some of us just walk more closely to one side than the other.”


	15. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Lovino wishes he could turn back time.

The next morning came much like the last, except this time it wasn’t Antonio whose eyes Lovino saw first when he awoke, but Gilbert’s. 

The first thought he had was that Antonio’s were much more preferable. Or, he supposed he should say that it was easier to take in Antonio’s gentle emeralds in the barely there morning light than the piercing burgundy staring at him now. Antonio’s were less terrifying to see first thing, anyway.

“Rise and shine fuckhead.” Gilbert droned, reaching over and cuffing Lovino over the head to wake him up from where he had been napping haphazardly on the couch. He didn’t remember falling asleep, so that meant he had probably passed out at some point during the night. Oh well; at least he had gotten some sleep. To be honest, he hadn’t been expecting to be able to sleep the whole night considering what happened with Feliciano, but the early morning rays of light filtering into the dusty shack of a home they were staying in.

Wait. “Is Feli-“

Gilbert quickly cut him off. “Antonio is still in the room with him. He looks exhausted, but I think he’ll be okay with you going to check on your brother.”

Lovino didn’t need to be told twice. Before Gilbert was even finished speaking, he shot up off the couch and flew up the stairs, not caring how much noise he made as he thundered up the steps and threw open the door to the room he knew his brother was staying in, preparing for the worst but hoping for the best. He only barely registered Antonio and Francis jumping in surprise when the door hit the wall with a slam, not paying any attention to anyone aside from his brother. All of his focus was on the boy on the bed, still curled up in Ludwig’s arms as if neither of them had moved an inch since yesterday.

Given how attached his brother seemed to be to Ludwig, he didn’t doubt that was the situation.

“F-Feli?” Lovino whispered as he studied his brother’s ashen face, taking in the raspy way he breathed like every inhale physically hurt him. He heard a strangled noise come from the younger Italian once his voice was recognized, which he had to interpret as an answer.

If here were being honest with himself, Feliciano looked worse than yesterday. The boy barely even opened his eyes, but Lovino didn’t need to see them to know they were bloodshot. Just looking at his pale face was making him uneasy. It was logical to think that he wouldn’t get better in the span of a day and he knew that. The frantic paranoia in him didn’t listen to reason though, and he couldn’t keep himself from reacting.

He whipped around to Antonio, ignoring Ludwig completely in favor of taking in the state of the Spaniard. “Why isn’t he better?” He demanded more harshly than he knew Antonio deserved, but the panic coursing through his veins quickly depleted his filter. Not that he had much of one in the first place. “You said you would take care of him!”

Antonio sighed and ran a hand through his dirty hair, his eyes sporting bags that made him look older than he was as he faced the brunt of Lovino’s anger. “I’ve done everything I can to bring his fever down,” He admitted softly, his voice drenched in self-loathing brought out by his inability to do more. “By all means, he should be getting better. I don’t know why he isn’t.” 

That definitely wasn’t what Lovino wanted to hear. He didn’t even look up when Gilbert came into the room and made his way over to his brother, sharing a few hushed words in a language Lovino didn’t understand, too absorbed in the fact that his brother wasn’t getting better. 

Francis waited until Gilbert was done speaking to his brother before turning his attention to Lovino, eyes narrowed in warning. “Feliciano isn’t doing any better, and yelling at the one person who was willing to stay up all night tending to him isn’t going to make him recover any faster.” He threw scathing words at the older Italian brother despite the increasingly uncomfortable look on Antonio’s face.

Lovino had the decency to feel a bit ashamed of snapping at Antonio, but he wasn’t going to apologize. Not until his brother was better. “Whatever. I just… he needs to get better.” He snapped at Francis, waving a hand behind him at his brother as he stared down the Frenchman.

“We know he does, but yelling at Antonio is just going to make things worse.” Francis warned him, Gilbert giving them both a look from where he was leaning down to speak to his brother, hushed words and vague motions made toward Antonio catching Lovino’s attention for the first time.

The conversation he had with the red eyed man in the dead of night came flooding back at that, and despite himself, Lovino calmed down enough to glance over at Antonio and truly took a good look at him.

The poor Spaniard looked exhausted. No one was ever well rested in an apocalypse, but this… he looked like he was about to pass out if he so much as sat down. Even his wild hair looked worse, knotted and sticking up like he had run his hands through it so many times that the strands just tangled together in protest. He could almost imagine the man tugging at the strands as he paced around the bed, debating on what to do to make Feliciano recover. 

To put it simply, he looked like absolute shit, and Lovino finally started to feel bad for snapping at the man. 

“I stayed up with him all night,” Antonio assured him once Gilbert was done speaking to his brother, disregarding the unjust scolding that was given to him by Lovino. “I wasn’t able to ask Ludwig about what might have caused this or if Feliciano has gone through something like this when this started because I didn’t want to wake him up. He needs all the rest he can get.” He said as he cast a glance over at Feliciano and the two German brothers. 

“Has Feliciano had symptoms like this before?” Gilbert asked his equally exhausted looking brother, pursing his lips when Ludwig shook his head.

“No. He’s been healthy.” He denied with a shake of his head. 

Antonio gave the blue eyed boy a stern look. “Ludwig, try and think of something, _anything_ that could have led to him feeling this sick.” Antonio encouraged, only feeling more confused about the source of the Italian’s illness when Ludwig gave him an equally serious look.

“He was completely healthy, I swear.”

“Are you sure?” 

Ludwig glared at his brother for that one. “Of course I’m sure. I’ve been with him for months now. I would have noticed if something was wrong.”

Gilbert made a placating motion with his hands before glancing over at Antonio. “Maybe it would help to know what you guys were exposed to?” He offered lamely.

Now that he mentioned it, Lovino supposed that his brother could have just gotten a case of food poisoning or caught something. It made sense, it was reasonable in every way, but something in his gut told him he was wrong. Something wasn’t right, and he was determined to find out what. “How did Gilbert find you?” He interrupted the quiet conversation Gilbert and Antonio were engaged in, not ashamed of the fact that he was being rude and changing the subject. “How the fuck did you get here?”

The room fell silent at that, all eyes turning to look at the only one of the two that were able to speak coherently. No one spoke until Ludwig took a shaky breath and turned his head to send a look at Antonio. “…Will telling you help him?” He asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice for such a hulking man, biceps flexing nervously as he pulled Feliciano closer to himself.

In a moment of understanding, Antonio gave him a grim look but fought to offer him a wavering smile. “There’s a good chance it might.” He replied just as softly, matching his tone to the one Ludwig used to soothe him.  


Lovino could tell Gilbert wanted to say something, but a look from Antonio kept him silent. 

Ludwig glanced down at the boy struggling for breath against his chest before tugging the blanket around them up higher so it was tucked under Feliciano’s chin. “…We started out at my college, holed up in my dorm for a while. The halls were too populated and hectic with people running and screaming, so we pushed a bookshelf in front of the door to my room and waited it out. It was safe until we ran out of things to eat.” Ludwig started with a sigh. “It wasn’t too bad until we left campus, just a few of those things here and there. We even ran into a few living students, but… they weren’t in their right minds. Suffered psychological breaks and weren’t stable enough to take them with us. After we made it off campus, it was running from place to place.”

Despite himself, Lovino noticed how Feliciano seemed to relax in Ludwig’s hold when he heard his voice. It caused a bubbling feeling of jealous anger stew in his gut, but he ignored it in favor of letting Antonio hear what the German had to say on the off chance that it would help his brother.

“We were doing well; keeping on the move and making sure we stayed alive, hunting if we needed food or just eating whatever canned things we could find. We got by fine, at least until we stumbled into the outskirts of a city by accident.” Ludwig’s voice dropped to an almost colder degree. “It was completely overrun. They were everywhere, ambling around the streets and littering the stores. Feliciano and I tried to back out and go another way but we had been seen. A horde came after us and backed us into a corner.”

Everyone remained silent as Ludwig spoke, the only noise being the ragged breaths from Feliciano. 

“We would have died if a kid hadn’t darted out of one of the apartment buildings behind the walkers. She drew their attention away from us for just long enough to get away, and for that, we owe her our lives.”  


“Where is she?” Gilbert asked, his face pale like he already knew the answer without having to ask.

Ludwig gave his brother a haunted look, his cheeks appearing much more sunken and lifeless than before. “She was surrounded, wouldn’t have made it even if we had gotten to her in time. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old.” He paused to glance down at Feliciano before he continued. “I convinced Feliciano to run, and because he did, we were able to escape. It… it was hard on him. It still is, I think. He broke down a few days later when we holed up in a pharmacy not too far from where your apartment was. I think the downtime gave him an opportunity to come to terms with what happened.” Ludwig concluded his story with a halfhearted shrug, his expression reverting back to a stonier look. “Not too long after that, you found us.”

Francis was hesitant to speak, but he swallowed his nerves and asked what he was sure everyone was thinking. “What did she look like?”

Perhaps it was more like drenching an open wound in salt than comforting, but Ludwig responded anyway. Talking about things was supposed to help the healing process, after all. “I don’t think either of us will ever forget her face. She had brown hair pulled to the side in a side ponytail, but it looked more like one big knot than hair. Her eyes… they were a golden brown, and she looked so beat up and malnourished.”

Lovino was the one that spoke up this time. “Feli saw her die?” 

Ludwig nodded solemnly. “Feli has been through a lot in the time we’ve been together.” Ludwig sighed as he reached down and gently brushed Feliciano’s bangs away from his face. “Without him, I wouldn’t have survived this long.”

Feliciano groaned and made a feeble reach for Ludwig at that, only calming down when the German hugged him more tightly, more than content to be in his grasp as he settled down and returned to his labored breathing once more. “He’s saved me more than anyone else.”

“Wait,” Antonio interrupted, having enough sense to appear sheepish as he kept his eyes glued to Feliciano before turning them to Ludwig once again. “There was a flu going around where you two were originally; a few of the kids I worked with had family there. Maybe Feliciano picked up the virus but didn’t get sick until now.” He appraised the younger Italian’s face as he spoke, nodding his head to himself as he gave the blue eyed German an expression of thinly veiled hope. “If that’s what this is, then he should get better in a few days.” 

Gilbert perked up and moved to the other side of the bed as his brother looked up at Antonio like he had just given him the world on a platter. “You’re sure?” He demanded, voice noticeably lighter than it was before with the newfound hope.

“It would make sense.” Francis agreed with Antonio, though Lovino could see him bite the inside of his mouth as he did so. 

“Wait, wait,” Lovino interrupted, “Why would he get sick _now_ instead of before?”

Antonio turned to him, no ounce of anger for the Italian’s earlier outburst on his face. “He was exposed to the virus when he was still healthy, so there’s a good chance he could have been carrying it and it finally affected him when he was run down and his immune system couldn’t keep up.” He explained, turning his attention back to Ludwig once he was done explaining, simply watching the way the man ran his hands up and down the Italian’s skin in comforting motions. 

An uncomfortable grunt passed through Feliciano’s lips as Ludwig’s hands drifted up from his sides to his shoulders comfortingly, halting when he heard that pained hiss. Almost without even thinking about what he was doing, the blonde man shifted so his hands weren’t touching the boy’s shoulders. “Does it hurt there?” He asked softly.

Feliciano didn’t confirm or deny, and Lovino didn’t catch what he was about to say as he felt Antonio’s hand land on his shoulder. The Spaniard was standing beside him at the edge of the bed, and when he had gotten there, Lovino didn’t know. It was a little unsettling how quiet the man could be when he wanted to. “What is it?” He sighed, weary and done with the situation at hand as he tore his attention away from his brother and stared up into exhausted but hopeful emerald eyes.

“I’ll stay up with him again tonight.” Antonio whispered to him, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze and not bothering to let go. The touch was comforting, so Lovino didn’t particularly mind the warm and calloused palm resting there for a few more moments. It was a stable sort of warmth, sort of like the comfort he knew his brother provided but somehow different than Feliciano’s slender piano fingers. “He shouldn’t get worse than he is now, so-”

A loud gasp from the bed cut off any and all conversation, demanding the attention of everyone in the room as all eyes landed on a horrified looking Ludwig. In the time Lovino had known him, he had never seen the man look so terrified. 

“O-oh my god-“ Ludwig choked where he was staring with wide eyes at Feliciano’s shoulder, the younger Italian feebly trying to grab at Ludwig and drag him closer, broken sounds escaping from between his lips as he struggled to keep holding onto the German in his panic. 

“N-no…” Feliciano began, face crumbling and voice cracking in fear.

“Feli… tell me this isn’t… that you didn’t-“ Ludwig couldn’t even get the words out as he sharply turned away and dry heaved over the side of the bed, gasping and willing the bile to come out just so he could get over feeling like he was about to throw up everything in his system. Nothing came out though, and he was quickly forced to come back to reality and face what he was seeing.

At the sound, Lovino whipped his gaze over to his brother, completely ignoring Ludwig in favor of taking in the sweaty and desperate form of his little brother. “What is it?!” He demanded, nearly pushing himself onto the mattress in his haste to get to him. “What-“

Everything around Lovino came to a screeching halt the second he saw the crusted blood marring the skin of Feliciano’s shoulder where his shirt had begun to slip off, his eyes unable to focus on anything other than the sight of his brother’s torn flesh peeking out from beneath his shirt.

No.

NO.

_NO._

This couldn’t be happening. Not after everything he had done to keep his brother alive, to keep them both surviving in this fucked up world.

Lovino couldn’t even begin to formulate words, the shock of seeing his brother like this too much for him to take. 

“I-I didn’t want to tell you,” Feliciano sobbed upon seeing his older brother’s and Ludwig’s stricken looks of horror, his voice rough and cracking with the effort to keep from breaking down. “I thought- maybe it was a mistake? Maybe I’m immune? I just…” he trailed off as he glanced between Ludwig and Lovino with big glassy eyes, no doubt having a hard time seeing through the tears and the general illness overtaking his body. “…I don’t want to die, Lovi.”

Lovino swore his vision tunneled until all he could see was his bother, his baby brother, terrified and shaking in the arms of someone else. 

His baby brother bitten and turning. 

“F-Feliciano…” Ludwig started thickly, his face white as a sheet and eyes wide as they slowly brimmed with tears, “…when did this happen?”

Feliciano smiled bitterly at the man he had come to love in the short time they had been together, noticing how Ludwig didn’t move off the bed and away from him. “The basement,” He started, voice a hollow mockery of his normal cheerful attitude as he wheezed around his words. “She was huddled in the corner. I-I thought she was still human because I could have sworn she was crying. I went to see if she was okay and she jumped at me and got me right here,” He gestured weakly to the nasty looking bite on his shoulder.

Lovino couldn’t believe what he was hearing let alone absorb the fact that his brother was going to turn into one of _them_. Mental images of his twin wandering the streets, growling and snapping his bloodied jaws and attacking survivors with his vacant eyes like the monsters that had been chasing them from day one made his stomach churn.

A fraction of a second later, Ludwig’s eyes widened even more. “Feli, that was over 24 hours ago!”

The younger Italian tried his best to shrug nonchalantly as an air of indifference surrounded him, a stark contrast to the earlier emotional wreck he was not even two minutes ago.

Lovino felt like he was going to be sick.

“I know. I only have a few more hours. By all means, I should have died much earlier.” Feliciano murmured, barely managing to pull the hem of his shirt back up to hide the evidence of his eventual downfall despite the shaking of his limbs and the labored pants leaving him in wheezing gasps. “I didn’t want to spend my last few moments worrying everyone so I hid it. I didn’t… I didn’t know I would get so sick before I die.”

Right when those words passed Feliciano’s lips, Lovino turned his head and hurled up everything he had eaten that day right onto the wooden floor as Antonio remained still beside him, the piercing smell of stomach acid keeping him rooted in reality.

His brother only had a few more hours to live and he had just reunited with him, just gotten him back in his mess of a life. Was this some kind of punishment for something he did? Or was this repentance for something his brother had done? He just didn’t know. Hell, he didn’t even know if this was still really happening. His whole body felt just as numb as his brain, which refused to process what was happening. 

“F-Feliciano…” Ludwig breathed, stricken where he sat staring at the covered spot where the bite was located like he was about to be sick himself.

Lovino understood the hulking man on some shallow level; being so terrified that he was rendered immobile was a feeling he knew all too well, and as he turned to truly look at the blonde German, a rage unlike anything he had felt before flared through his blood and set his body alight. In his absence, Ludwig was supposed to keep an eye on his brother. “YOU!” He screeched in a grief stricken rage, tearing himself away from his twin to charge at the blue eyed German who was at the edge of the bed, still beside Feliciano. “You were supposed to watch out for him! You- he wouldn’t be like this if you had protected him!” He screamed.

“Lo-” Feliciano weakly tried to intervene but Lovino wasn’t having it as he got up in Ludwig’s face, nearly spitting on him as he yelled.

“This is all your fault! Why… why couldn’t you just keep him safe?!” Seeing straight was impossible with the tears he felt streaming down his cheeks, but he didn’t need his vision to reach out and strangle the man in front of him.

He’d had enough practice killing these past few months to manage.

Oddly enough, Ludwig just bowed his head and took the verbal assault, his shoulders shaking with repressed sobs that threatened to wrack his frame. 

It would have been a pathetic sight to see someone so big cry like that, but Lovino was far beyond reason.

“Lovino!” A pair of surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him and held him back before he could light into the taller man, the accented lilt of Antonio’s voice ringing in his ears as he felt himself be pressed against a strong chest. “Don’t shout, the walkers will hear,” he tried to warn him.

“So what?! Let them come in here! I’ll bring them down to the basement to the one that bit Feliciano and fucking destroy them all!” Lovino spat, struggling against the Spaniard to get at Ludwig, clawing at his arms and throwing his elbows behind him to get free. He felt one particular jab of his elbow collide with the side of Antonio’s jaw, the bone hurting his arm just as much as he knew the blow hurt Antonio, if the surprised grunt of pain was anything to go by. 

Still, Antonio didn’t let go of him. 

“He’s right, Lovino! Stop shouting!” Gilbert hissed at him, his own face pale and eyes wet as he hovered at the other end of the bed, eyes snapping back and forth from Feliciano to Ludwig as Francis just watched on solemnly.

Whether Antonio was just used to restraining people or just freakishly strong, Lovino didn’t know, but he quickly found it impossible to escape his clutches. Gilbert’s pathetic plea went ignored. “Shut the fuck up and let me go!” He hissed, unable to count how many hits he landed on the emerald eyed man in his haste to get at Ludwig. “This is just as much fault as it is Ludwig’s! You’re the one that dragged us to this goddamn house in the first place!”

“Lovino, please don’t hurt him,” Feliciano sobbed as he watched his brother break down and Ludwig look like he had just been told he was about to lose everything. “There wasn’t anything anyone could do! It… it was my fault. I should have been paying more attention. I should have- I should have known not to get too close to her.” He tried to raise a trembling hand to his face to wipe away his tears but only cried harder when his arm gave out on him and flopped back to his side, his nails not the same color they had been yesterday. They looked more brittle and dark, more dead in a way, just like his failing body. “This isn’t anyone’s fault but my own.”

At the sound of Feliciano’s devastated voice- this could be the last time you hear it, Lovino reminded himself- the older Italian sagged in Antonio’s hold and completely broke down, weakly pushing against his chest to get him to let go. “N-no…” he sobbed, the words getting stuck in his throat when he felt those arms around him tighten momentarily before letting go. “No, y-you… you were supposed to go to Marina with us! You’re supposed to be _safe!_ ” His feet brought him to his brother before he could comprehend what he was doing, throwing his arms around him and embracing him tight enough to cut off his oxygen, not giving a single shit about the bite that was slowly turning his only remaining family into a monster.

“Lovino-” Antonio started.

“No, no, NO!” Lovino buried his face in his brother’s chest and sobbed like he had never sobbed before, clutching at his arms and refusing to let go even when he felt Antonio try to place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

If only he had gotten to his brother sooner.

If only he hadn’t agreed to stay upstairs with Antonio and the others, maybe he would have found his brother first before that walker tricked him.

If only he had been there when his brother needed him the most. 

“Get off of me,” he slapped Antonio’s hand away with a strength he hadn’t anticipated himself to possess, refusing his touch and instead surrounding himself with Feliciano before it was too late.  
Before he turned.

He heard someone shift behind him, too out of his mind with grief to care about who it was but guessing it was Antonio once he heard his voice. “There’s still time to-”

“It’s too late, Toni.” He heard Francis murmur. “The bite isn’t on a limb we can remove, and even if we could, there’s no way of knowing if the infection has reached the rest of him, but judging by his face… we’re too late. It’s been too long.”

“But-”

“Antonio.” Francis sighed, sounding wearier than Lovino had ever heard him. “There’s nothing we can do.”

“Like fuck there isn’t anything we can do!” Lovino cried. “He’s my brother! He’s the only family I have left! We have to do something!”

Gilbert grit his teeth and snarled at Lovino. “Fuck, don’t you think we know that?! Don’t you think we feel shitty enough to know that he’s gonna fucking die?”

Gilbert’s snarl plunged the room into deafening silence that was only broken by the ragged breaths of Lovino, who by all means was fighting against himself to keep it together. There was no use arguing with everyone; they had already made up their minds that his brother was a goner, but he didn’t think the same thing. It had been a long time since Feliciano had been bitten so there was a chance, however small, that he wasn’t going to turn. It was a pipe dream at most and a foolish one at that, but it was all he could hold onto at the moment. “Say that again. I dare you.” He growled dangerously low under his breath, glaring up at Gilbert with watery eyes so full of hate and sorrow that he was surprised the man didn’t back down right then and there. 

The red eyed man huffed and spared a glance over at Ludwig, fighting back tears of his own as he advanced slower to the bed to get his voice across. “Are you deaf? I said-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as a fist colliding with his face cut him off, his head whipping to the side at a painful angle as Lovino drew his fist back and made a move to lunge at him again only to be held back by Antonio. 

“Lovino! STOP!” An accented voice yelled desperately in his ear, shattering the remaining control Lovino had been desperately clinging to. Now instead of holding himself together, he felt himself break apart in Antonio’s hold.

“GET OUT! EVERYONE GET OUT!” Lovino shrieked, thrashing in Antonio’s hold as he felt his composure slipping more and more. 

Francis didn’t have to be told twice. The raw emotion in Lovino’s voice made him volatile, and while Antonio might have the ability to soothe him, Francis knew he and Gilbert certainly didn’t. “Come on,” He murmured to an oddly quiet Gilbert who was rubbing his sore jaw in shock, his cheek already turning a shade of red as he allowed Francis to steer him to the door. 

Lovino didn’t bother following them with his eyes as he instantly whipped around to face Ludwig, still being held back by Antonio. “You too! _Get. Out!_ ” He hissed, words cutting and meant to hurt as he threw them at the younger German, too blinded by rage to see the way Feliciano was feebly trying to keep the man beside him, crying out for him when Ludwig took one look at Lovino and came to a conclusion. 

“I won’t leave him.” 

Lovino snarled at him, barely being held back by Antonio, the Spaniard grunting in pain as the places the Italian had hit him throbbed with the effort it took to keep him still. “ _GET OUT!_ ” Lovino screamed over his brother’s pleas for him to listen, too blinded by tears and the roaring of blood in his ears to hear Feliciano murmur something to Ludwig or see the tears rimming the blue eyed man’s eyes as a result. As it was, it felt like his lungs were about to give out. 

All he knew was that the moment Ludwig met eyes with Gilbert and leaned down to press a shaky kiss to his brother’s forehead before pushing himself up on shaky legs and stumbling out of the room, Lovino couldn’t stand Antonio’s presence any longer. Those arms holding him back weren’t comforting any longer; they were just adding fuel to the flame burning in his veins. “You too, get the fuck out.” He growled at the man without taking his eyes off of Feliciano, the gentle boy sobbing in his bundle of blankets when he found he was unable to follow after Ludwig. 

He felt more than heard Antonio take a sharp breath and exhale against his neck. “But-“

“Go.” Lovino whispered lowly, pouring every ounce of anger into that one cracked command. He felt himself go numb as Antonio came to a decision and slowly unwrapped his arms from around him. 

But even as numb as he felt, the absence of Antonio’s warmth as he threw one last devastated look over his shoulder at them and left the room cut Lovino deeper than he could even begin to understand.


	16. Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino has to do what he hoped would never have to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this one! For the past three weeks I've been struggling with my health a lot and it's been difficult to just sit down and write this, so im sorry again if it's not up to par.  
> Thanks for reminding me to keep it going! Every comment and kudos give me so much motivation ;u;

There was a long silence before either of them spoke. As fate would have it, Feliciano was the first one to break the quiet with his raspy voice. “You didn’t have to kick them out like that.” He murmured, not chastising his brother but just speaking his mind. 

Lovino’s fists clenched by his sides, a strangled noise coming from his throat. “Si, I did. They were looking at you like… like you’re…” He struggled to spit the words out as exhausted and foggy brown eyes stared up at him from the bed, waiting patiently for him to find his voice. “They were looking at you like you’re already dead.” 

Feliciano bit his lip, closing his eyes as he said what he knew Lovino wouldn’t accept. It was hard enough saying it; he didn’t want to see the expression it would cause. It wasn't something he could handle with the way he was now, not with how sick he felt. “Lovino, I’m-“

“No,” Lovino cut him off harshly, the desperate edge to his voice hurting Feliciano more than the agony coursing through his veins. “You’re going to be fine. Don’t- don’t do this to me.”

“Please Lovi,” Feliciano begged, his voice a strained whisper in the dead silence. “I… I think I can _smell_ you, I’m not- I’m not going to get better.”

Lovino felt his nails drawing blood where he was clenching them into fists by his sides, the pain just a faint whisper in the back of his mind. “You’re going to be fine.” He insisted, the harsh belief and finality of his words drawing a pained smile from Feliciano. 

“I’m not, Lovino. I thought… I thought I could make it, but I can’t.”

The burning sensation in his head and heart slowly encompassed Lovino’s body, throwing him over the edge as Feliciano turned pleading resigned brown eyes to him. Those orbs had the ability to persuade him to do anything, and even in his last moments, they still held that power. “P-per favore, Lovi,” he wheezed as Lovino came as close to him as he could, “Do it before Ludwig sees me like this.” He sucked in a harsh breath as a pang of agony washed over him once again despite the elder Italian’s proximity, his body writhing under the strain of what the bite was doing to him. 

“Feliciano-“ Lovino began.

“Kill me.”

That plea killed whatever hope Lovino had that his brother would get better. His sunken eyes and pale, pasty skin were evidence that he wasn’t doing well, and probably wouldn’t get better. He had never heard of anyone getting better from a walker bite, after all. Immunity didn’t exist. “You can’t ask me to do this, I-I can’t,” Lovino ground out weakly as Feliciano gave him a sad smile and raised a shaky hand to cover the bite on his shoulder like it would erase everything that was happening.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I wouldn’t want anyone else to see me like this. Especially not Luddy. He… he wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’s too kind hearted.” Feliciano admitted softly, wincing when one of his fingers drifted over the ripped flesh of his bite, the skin around the actual wound an unnatural color that made Lovino’s stomach twist.

Lovino had to hold himself back from lurching forward and trying to help him because really, what could he do?

“You know, the whole time I was with him, I prayed that you were okay.”

Oh god, he couldn’t hear this.

“I bargained with God that he could take me if I just got to see you one more time.” Feliciano murmured, closing his eyes for a moment and wincing when a deep ache began in his lower stomach. He could feel his body shutting down on him, Lovino was sure. “I shouldn’t have worried. Y-you’re strong Lovino, and Antonio is too. I… I feel more at peace knowing he’s going to be with you through this when I’m gone.” Feliciano glanced achingly down at the knife kept in the band of Lovino’s jeans. “The only things I regret are having to leave you and Luddy.”

There was nothing Lovino could say to that, feeling a strange sort of detachment as he listened to Feliciano speak what could easily be his final words. This whole situation felt like it wasn’t really happening, but as hard as he prayed and begged, nothing was changing. His brother was still dying. 

“Don’t cry over me okay, Lovi?” Feliciano smiled up at him, weak and heartfelt in the way only his little brother could manage to do in a situation like this.

Lovino always thought he was the stronger one out of the two of them. He dealt with the news of their parents’ death early in their childhood much better than Feliciano. He peacefully came to terms with the realization that their grandfather was lost to the infection in Rome without blinking an eye. But this, the way Feliciano was handling the knowledge that he would never leave that room again… Lovino realized that Feliciano was infinitely stronger than him in so many ways.

“Please Lovino,” Feliciano hacked as a coughing fit overtook his frame, specks of blood landing on his shirt and a bit speckled across his chin and pale, chapped lips. “Do it, per favore, I-I want to go before I turn. I’m running out of time.” 

That was one plea that Lovino could understand despite how against it he was. As much as he loved his brother and after everything he had already done for him, this was the last thing he could provide. If this was what Feliciano wanted as his last wish, then he would give him the mercy of dying as a human instead of a monster. 

-

Downstairs, Ludwig shut himself down as Francis tended to the blooming bruises on Antonio’s face and chest, gently prodding his skin for signs of broken bones almost in time with Ludwig’s thunderous footsteps. Gilbert, despite his best efforts, couldn’t get his brother to calm down, the large man pacing back and forth as he drove his fingers wildly through his shaggy blonde hair, looking a complete mess and nothing like his usual self.

“Luddy, you have to calm down,” Gilbert tried, voice pathetic in his efforts to calm his brother. He knew nothing anyone said would make dealing with Feliciano dying any better, and as he watched his little brother tear himself to pieces over the Italian that lay dying on the bed upstairs, he knew there was no coming back from this. 

Ludwig was strong, but there was no recovering from losing someone so dear in such a horrible way. 

That thought was enough for Gilbert to find his voice and grab the blonde man by the arm, almost staggering at the knee jerk reaction the man made when he tried to rip his arm away. “Alright, that’s enough. Go sit down before your loud footsteps bring every walker around here to the house.” He commanded, and to his surprise, Ludwig followed his instruction and let himself fall to his knees right where he stood before falling onto his backside and putting his face in his hands, his great shoulders shaking with repressed sobs as he hunched into himself. Mumbled pleas of Feliciano’s name passed his lips as he battled himself for control over his cries, and Gilbert gave him the small mercy of pretending he wasn’t witnessing what was happening.

God, what Gilbert would give to prevent Feliciano from being bitten. He couldn’t stand seeing his brother like this, and from the looks of it, it was hard on Antonio and Francis, too. Antonio kept sending glances up at the staircase in between Francis tending to his face, so Gilbert figured he was worried about both of the twins. That boy had a tendency to get attached to people way too easily. “Antonio.” Gilbert ground out. “No matter what you hear upstairs, don’t go into that room.” He warned, his voice turning softer, almost more fragile as he shifted his attention to Ludwig. “That goes for you too, Ludwig. Feliciano wouldn’t want you to have to see that.”

Just hearing Feliciano’s name was enough to send Ludwig into a frenzy once more, his face so ashen and body looking so burdened that Gilbert almost regretted mentioning his name. 

If this was what his brother was going to be like after this, then he dreaded to think about how difficult it was going to be keeping his spirit and will to keep going alive. He looked like he wouldn’t be opposed to going upstairs and dying right beside Feliciano, and that fact alone broke Gilbert in ways he hadn’t felt even when he admitted to himself on those silent nights that there was only a slim chance that Ludwig could still be alive. 

After all this time, all the fighting, this was what Ludwig was going to be. He was going to be broken, and Gilbert wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be anything like his normal self months, or even years after this. 

“Fuck,” Gilbert hissed under his breath as he ran a stressed hand back through his hair and spared a glance up at the ceiling to gather his strength in preparation for what he knew was to come.

-

Holding Feliciano to his chest and burying his face in his chestnut hair, Lovino forced himself to remain calm for his brother, taking a series of deep, shuddering breaths to steady himself. 

He hadn’t agreed to do this, but he couldn’t refuse, either. To rob his brother of this easy way out would make him just as bad as those monsters outside that tore apart living, breathing people.

There was no way he could back out of this and let himself live to see his brother turn into a walker, teeth gnashing and eyes glazed with the haze of death. This was the last thing he could do for him. “I’ll miss you, Feli.” He whispered brokenly into those dirty strands, feeling how the boy in his arms shook with pained little tremors as his slim fingers clung to his dirtied shirt, his breathing patchy and labored. It was almost enough to make him give up on what he was planning to do, but he kept the knife pointed at the base of Feliciano’s skull with a trembling hand and a wavering conviction. 

He would rather the boy go as a human than a walker, and that was what he had to keep reminding himself as he took a deep breath and prepared himself for what he was about to do.

“You’re the best brother I could have asked for.” He felt a soft murmur against his collarbone at that and couldn’t help the watery smile that tugged at his lips, the familiar smell of Feliciano invading his senses and steeling his resolve. “Arrivederci, fratello.” 

The knife plunged into Feliciano’s neck far easier than Lovino was okay with, the steel slipping into the base of his neck and into his skull like a hot knife through butter before being ripped out with a strength Lovino hadn’t known he possessed. Feliciano went limp in his arms as soon as the foreign object was ripped out, his skin pale and his chest still as warmth poured out of the wound and stuck to Lovino’s shirt and skin, the sensation of the sticky fluid not registering in his numbness.

Never again would he get to see those kind brown eyes or that gentle smile that looked so much like his own, and never again would he feel the warm embrace of his only brother, the last of his family. No one would ever get to laugh at one of Feliciano’s jokes or be comforted by him in that special way only he could manage. 

He was gone, and as the slowly cooling body in his arms turned into nothing but a carcass wearing the face of his brother, reality rushed back to him with a burst of pain and agony.

Then, and only then, did Lovino allow himself to truly break down and cry for the brother he lost.

-

The sound of footsteps creaking on the stairs what felt like hours later had everyone’s heads whipping over to the staircase to see who it was, though Antonio had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach before he even caught sight of the source of the noise. There wasn’t any way it would be anyone but Lovino. “Lovi-” He began, only to stop mid-sentence when Lovino came into the light and he caught sight of the blood staining his shirt like he had gutted someone in his arms. Given what the situation was, he found himself frightened that could be the reality. He felt Francis try to hold him back by his arm as he stood and made a move to rush to the other man, the need to comfort too strong to ignore. 

“Antonio, don’t.” Francis warned him quietly, narrowed and sympathetic baby blue eyes locked onto Lovino as the Italian drifted over to the backpack Feliciano had left propped up against the wall by the door as if in a trance, his feet dragging behind him like he didn’t even know where he was or where he was going.

“Lovino,” Antonio called out, ignoring Francis as he begged the Italian to just look at him. “Lovi, what-” The rest of his words got caught in his throat when Lovino finally turned to glance at him.

Throughout the hell on earth they were forced to suffer through, Antonio had never seen such a haunted look in someone’s eyes. Those spitfire hazel orbs he had become used to seeing had lost their flame, memories of what had to be done wearing down on them until they were impossibly dull. The dried tear tracks carving a path down his dirty cheeks didn’t help him look any more put together. 

“Lovi…” Antonio whispered sadly, ignoring the throbbing in his face from where he had been hit earlier as he felt a bit of himself break away and shatter from what that gaze told him. 

“Where’s Feliciano?” Ludwig broke the tense atmosphere despite Gilbert trying to keep him quiet, taking one look at the blood staining Lovino’s shirt and dry heaving, his eyes wide and horrified as the inevitable conclusion was drawn. “Oh no, no, no, no, _NO!_ ”

Gilbert had to keep a firm hold on Ludwig as he broke down completely, crying for a lover that would never hear him. 

Antonio watched the sad scene with tears in his eyes, his heart going out to both Lovino and Ludwig. He didn’t even get to say anything before the Italian shouldered Feliciano’s backpack and turned away with that same dead expression, intent on going back upstairs. To do what, Antonio wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to ask after what Lovino had just done. 

Ludwig, though, was too far gone in his grief to think rationally. “Tell me!” He demanded through his tears, casting desperate eyes on Lovino’s back as the Italian froze at the bottom of the stairs, his stance rigid and back facing the crying man. “Tell me that he wasn’t scared at least…please…” He begged through his tears, staring at Lovino’s back as he waited for an answer.

An answer he would never receive it seemed, as Lovino continued stiffly up the stairs without a word, Ludwig’s stifled sobs echoing in his wake. 

“That asshole,” Gilbert hissed under his breath as he watched Lovino ascend the stairs without sparing a word to ease his brother’s suffering. 

Antonio whipped around to stare at Gilbert at that, a frown marring his lips as he took in the state of his friend and his little brother. “Don’t call him that,” He scolded, hackles raising at the insult. “After what he just had to do, I’m surprised he’s still here.”

Gilbert’s menacing look aimed at Lovino softened as he listened to his friend’s words, understanding dawning on him as he regarded Antonio with a look full of pity. “You mean-“

“I know how he feels, Gilbert.” Antonio murmured, training his frustrated gaze on the ground as he spoke. The weight of what he was saying rendered him unable to meet the other’s eyes. “He won’t be the same for a long time, if ever. You don’t just get over something like that.” 

Gilbert wasn’t leaving it at that. “And what about Ludwig? What about him, Antonio?” He growled, the echoing sobs of his baby brother engulfing him until all he saw was red. “Just because Lovino had to do this doesn’t mean that it’s any less hard on Ludwig!”

Antonio ran a quick hand through his hair in mounting frustration. “That’s not what I’m saying!” He argued, feeling that familiar and dreaded anger in him starting to bubble up.

“That’s exactly what you’re saying!” Gilbert hissed at him, the agonized crying sounds coming from Ludwig only fueling him to continue yelling.

Antonio knew that no one could blame Gilbert for exploding like this. Not when his brother was suffering the loss of a lover and everyone was experiencing the absence of one of their own. It was an expected reaction, but Antonio couldn’t deny the dark rage that he felt growing in him the longer he thought about Gilbert insulting Lovino after what he had just done.

Before he knew it, it felt as if his vision was tunneling until he couldn’t see anything but Gilbert, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

“I just-” He began in an escalating voice before Francis’ hand landing on his shoulder cut him off quickly, quelling the increasing levels of defensive fury he felt boiling in his veins. “That’s not what I’m saying.” He repeated in a calmer tone, piercing emeralds staring his friend down as he struggled to keep a hold of himself. “I’m not downplaying what Ludwig is going through, but Lovino just had to-“ He glanced down at Ludwig and decided not to say what he knew everyone in the room was aware of. The blonde man had gone through enough. “What he had to do is going to mess him up. He’s not going to get better for a long time, if ever. Getting angry at him isn’t going to help anyone.”

Gilbert frowned heavily at Antonio but the fury in his expression lessened considerably. “I should go up there-“

“No.” Antonio was quick to cut him off, shaking off Francis’ hand from his shoulder as he took a defensive stance and kept his gaze solely on Gilbert. “Going up there is the worst thing you can do right now.” That definitely wasn’t what Gilbert or Ludwig wanted to hear, the blue eyed man gazing up at Antonio with so much agony in his expression that Antonio felt himself tear up all over again. “No one is going upstairs until Lovino is ready to come down. He’s fragile right now and needs time to sort things out. If anyone goes up there and sees what he doesn’t want us to see, then there’s no telling what would happen.”

Blowing a frustrated breath between his lips and leaning down to place a hand on his younger brother’s trembling shoulder, Gilbert frowned and decided to let Lovino have a bit more time to himself, if only to spare Ludwig the pain of having more of his questions ignored. 

It wasn’t a mystery what happened to Feliciano; they all knew what had to be done despite how much they wished it didn’t have to be this way, and even as Ludwig trembled and shook, he had to know what was lying upstairs. “Since when did you become such a Lovino advocate?” He sighed, slumping down on the ground and pulling his brother into his arms, staring at Antonio over Ludwig’s shoulder.

Francis gave Gilbert a knowing look before Antonio spoke up. “I always was.” He shrugged, casting a sad but understanding look at the stairs. “I don’t care if you don’t like him, but I do. I think… he’s a strong person, and even in this whole mess, he’s still kind. It takes a special kind of person to remain like that, and I think that deserves respect. _He_ deserves respect.” 

Unintelligible brokenhearted babbling from Ludwig cut Antonio off as he stared down at the man who was on the floor hugging his knees to his chest and suffering so badly, his heart aching for the man. Feliciano seemed like he was a nice man, and through the limited experiences he had with the man, he could tell that he was a genuine and kind hearted person. 

For Ludwig to lose someone like that, no matter their relationship, was more devastating than Antonio knew any of them could deal with.

-

The sun had begun its daily descent by the time Antonio heard someone coming down the stairs, his head snapping to attention where he had been compulsively checking his bat for any signs of breaking or splintering, and he heard a distinct sound from Gilbert where he was comforting Ludwig with soft words spoken in a language only the two of them understood. 

Glancing over to where he heard the noise, Antonio held in a gasp when Lovino came to the bottom of the stairs. 

It wasn’t the fact that the Italian had finally come downstairs that shocked him, but the bundle in his arms that was wrapped in a stained and bloody sheet was definitely cause for concern. No one said anything as Lovino slowly dragged his feet over to the front door and calmly moved what Antonio had a sickening suspicion was Feliciano closer to his chest and opened the front door, the sound it let out a surefire way of calling attention to the walkers in the area. 

“What the fuck is he doing?” Gilbert hissed under his breath as he kept his wide eyes locked onto Lovino’s back, Francis’ grunt in response letting Antonio know that he didn’t know either. 

All he knew was that Lovino was in a fragile state right now, and he could only thank god that Ludwig hadn’t looked up when the Italian carried the younger man down the stairs and out the door, unable to hear the commotion over the hitches in his breathing. 

That was one blessing he was thankful for. 

“Stay here,” He instructed in a no nonsense tone to the three men in the room, casting Francis a meaningful look before pushing himself up and rushing to the door to follow Lovino.

“Antonio!” Francis called out to him, halting him in his tracks as he glanced over at the man and reflexively caught the object that was tossed to him. “You better keep that on you.” The blonde man said just as Antonio realized what he was holding was just his bat. In his rush to go after Lovino, he had completely forgotten to grab it.

He gave his friend a curt nod before turning back to the door and rushing out into the yard just in time to see Lovino gently setting the wrapped object down on the grassy ground just a little ways away from the driveway with a tenderness that made his heart ache. He was almost afraid to speak up as he watched the Italian stare at the bundle for a few seconds before keeling and attacking the ground with his hands, throwing handfuls of dirt behind him as he savagely tore into the earth. It was frightening to witness, and Antonio got the distinct feeling he wasn’t supposed to see this. But before he could rethink his plan that admittedly wasn’t a plan at all, his mouth moved without him telling it to. “Lovi…” He breathed, nearly jumping himself when Lovino tensed up and threw a protective arm over the bundle. 

“Go away,” Lovino murmured weakly, his voice dry and hoarse from all the crying Antonio knew he had to have done, his hands covered in dirt and the setting sun casting drastic shadows on the exhausted and pale face of the man he cared for so deeply. 

Just that tone alone was enough to make Antonio want to grab him and dash back into the house, never mind the fact that night was almost upon them. “What are you doing?” He asked softly, carefully making his way toward Lovino and glancing around them to make sure no walkers were approaching before crouching beside him, wary of getting too close. 

“None of your business.” Lovino snapped at him as he resumed clawing the ground, his hands caked in dirt and making Antonio cringe. 

The Italian’s behavior wasn’t stable and it really worried Antonio, but what worried him more was the fact that it didn’t seem like Lovino was about to stop despite it almost being dark out. “We have to go back inside, Lovi. It’s getting dark.” He tried to convince the other man, laying a careful hand on the man’s shoulder. 

That turned out to be a big mistake as Lovino whipped around and swatted his and away, venom lacing his expression as he glowered at the man who dared interrupt him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He growled even as Antonio’s gaze softened in understanding. 

All of his practice with working with children had to be channeled as he tried to keep his voice calm and devoid of the panic he was feeling. “Whatever you’re doing, we can finish tomorrow. I’ll help you do whatever it is, so please just come inside with me, okay?” 

The silence that occurred after that offer was enough to force Antonio to try and meet Lovino’s eyes even with how determined the Italian was at keeping from meeting his gaze, the silent sounds of insects and the wind rustling the trees around them the only noise that reached his ears. 

He was so hyper focused on the man in front of him that he almost didn’t notice Francis leaning out the doorway of the house, poking his head out a little apprehensively. “Come inside!” He called out as quietly as he could, the urgency in his voice bringing Antonio back to himself just in time to notice how dark it had become.

That, and the cacophony of groaning sounds coming from the forest.


	17. What Morning Brings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With everything Lovino held dear in the ground, what else is there to hold onto?

The groans from the forest finally forced Lovino to abandon his mission and retreat into the house with Antonio right by his side, refusing to let him assist with bringing the bloodied bundle to safety or even look at it. It was taxing for Antonio to pretend that he wasn’t concerned with what lay underneath that cloth, Lovino was sure, but he couldn’t let him touch it. 

Seeing Antonio make contact with it would only cement the reality he was trying so hard to ignore. 

It was inevitable, but if he could just delay it for a bit longer, then he could cope.

He could make it through this.

Not that preventing him from interfering made much of a difference because the second they came through the door, Gilbert was on him like a cat pouncing on its prey. “What were you thinking?” He demanded, not stupid enough to try and get around Antonio to get at the Italian even though his words suggested he was ready to push the Spaniard out of the way and charge at any moment. “You could have been killed! What would you have done if you were trapped outside in the dark and none of us could leave the house to get you?!”

Gilbert was particularly skilled in bringing out the defensiveness in others, and even in his drained state, Lovino couldn’t help but growl at the man. “Shut up,” He grumbled without any bite, too tired and too _numb_ to offer up more of a fight.

But with most things, Gilbert was fatally unrelenting, and now was no exception. “What the fuck is this? Why are you carrying that?” He snarled, gesturing to the bundle Lovino was clutching to his chest. 

“Get away!” Lovino growled out weakly as he hunched over the bundle in his arms and took a few staggering steps back toward the front door, not noticing the wide eyed look Francis was giving him. It didn’t matter anyway; none of them could do anything to bring back the brother he had lost, so what was the point? Let Francis stare at him all he wanted.

It wouldn’t change anything. 

“Gilbert, back off.” Antonio warned the German man from in front of Lovino, a clear message in the no nonsense tone that replaced the usual cheerful man’s usual voice. It was jarring to hear, but Lovino didn’t flinch when he felt a pair of eyes boring into him from across the room. He didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“What is that?” Ludwig’s deep and shaky voice, shattering Gilbert’s concentration and Antonio’s glare.

Lovino wrapped the bundle closer against his chest, hefting some of it up over his shoulder so he wouldn’t drop it. “Nothing,” He hissed, fighting to speak around the lump in his throat as he fought the impulse to hide behind Antonio.

Ludwig wasn’t going to drop the topic though, and it seemed that Gilbert was finally beginning to understand the situation if the paleness of his face and the increasingly disturbed expression he was wearing were any indication. “Um, Luddy-“

“What is it?” Ludwig demanded, the edge to his voice sounding near hysterical as he eyed the bundle in Lovino’s arms with a fearsome intensity. This time though, Lovino kept his lips sealed in a thin line, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple and dropping to the floor without a sound. 

He could almost imagine it making a sound through the sheer silence that wrapped around everyone in the room like a blanket, thick and suffocating. 

“I said,” Ludwig began again, his voice cracking as he kept his gaze trained on the bundle in Lovino’s arms. “ _What is that?_ ” 

A charged silence shrouded the room, hanging over everyone like a cloud. Lovino was almost afraid to breathe as surprise and indignation morphed into complete fury. Who did Ludwig think he was, asking him something like this after what had just happened? After who he just lost?

No, he didn’t deserve this. Ludwig didn’t have the right to ask this of him, and perhaps in some sick, twisted way, he lifted the ban on his speech and told the truth in a way he knew would hurt Ludwig like the man hurt him by not protecting his brother, the words coming out deceptively soft as he stared at the ground, his dirty overgrown bangs obstructing his face.

“I just wanted to bury him.”

It took a second for the words to sink in, but as soon as they did, the whole room to burst into chaos. Shouts were sounded from both Gilbert and Francis as they rushed at Ludwig to hold him back as he screeched and made a lunge for Lovino and the body he was carrying, broken and desperate as he wailed for a passed lover. Lovino didn’t move from his spot, not really hearing the panic around him as he heard himself speak the words that he swore he would never admit to himself or anyone else. 

Feliciano was gone. He wasn’t coming back, and-

“Lovino, get him upstairs and lock the door.” A soft but commanding voice sounded from in front of him and interrupted his thoughts, close enough to his ear for it to be impossible to miss. “I’ll cover you, so _go_.” Antonio stressed louder this time, careful to avoid touching the covered body in Lovino’s arms as he gave him a nudge toward the staircase.

Lovino didn’t have to look up to know who that soft voice belonged to, but when he did, he felt his heart drop into his stomach for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Those caring and gentle emerald eyes were hardened with understanding and something else that Lovino tried to ignore. 

Now wasn’t the time to deal with emotions like that.

“Lovi,” Antonio stressed, glancing back and forth between him and Ludwig before catching eyes with Francis and biting his lip. “If you need help getting him upstairs-“

“No!” Lovino blurted before he could stop himself, stumbling back toward the staircase and breathing hard as he fought through the panic he could feel bubbling up in his chest. It finally reached a plateau when he felt his foot catch on something and his vision started to tilt, the fucking backpack he left on the floor earlier the culprit for tripping him.

He would have landed flat on the ground and dropped his cargo had an arm not shot out and caught him around the waist to steady him, strong tanned hands gripping him tightly and flitting over the object he was holding, not touching but assuring nothing was wrong. 

Well, more wrong than it already was, Lovino supposed. 

And of course, when he looked up into the eyes of the man he had been following and reluctantly placing his trust in for the better part of their journey, he caught sight of the one thing he hated more than anything in the world. 

He could see it in their eyes; the sympathy, the grief, the pity. That was the one that killed him the most. Out of everything, pity was the one thing he didn’t want to see.

And of course the person wearing that expression had to be Antonio. Not Gilbert, not Francis, and not Ludwig.

No. It was Antonio.

“Get the fuck away,” he growled thickly without malice, too emotionally beaten to even keep up the charade that he wasn’t falling to pieces. It was too tiring, and without having to protect Feliciano, was there even a point in struggling anymore? Of course not.

Without his brother, there was no reason to keep going.

"Lovi..." Antonio hesitated a few seconds before Lovino felt him remove his hand from his waist and place it gingerly on his shoulder instead. 

His tentative touch was like a shock that jump started the Italian’s body, rewiring everything and demanding that he lash out. “I said get the fuck away from me!” Lovino screeched as he roughly slapped the hand away, the rubber band holding his sanity in place snapping. He didn’t even register the shocked expression on Antonio’s face as nearly tripped over himself in his haste to back away and unleashed all the anger he couldn’t keep contained any longer. “You never listen! Why can’t you just listen for once in your fucking life?!” He demanded, body trembling as he fought to accept the fact that Feliciano was gone while trying to keep himself together. “You’re just like Feliciano, you never fucking _listen!_ ”

Antonio stared at him with an open mouth, struggling for words as he fought to remain calm under Lovino’s vicious tone, the body in his arms slipping from his grasp enough in his outburst that a few strands of dirty chestnut hair became visible under the cloth. 

Not that Lovino seemed to notice.

“It’s always Lovi this and Lovi that! Why the fuck can’t you leave me alone the one time I need you to let me be?!” Lovino shouted, his words ringing through the air as they pierced Antonio one by one, the rest of their group looking on in complete shock as the tough Italian they knew came apart at the seams, his voice thick and clouded with nothing but agony. Those red rimmed exhausted eyes brimming with tears that were quick to escape their prison and cascade down his dirty cheeks, each drop that hit the ground paining Antonio even further. 

But of course, it wasn’t Antonio that spoke up to defend himself, but an enraged Gilbert.

“What the _fuck_ , Lovino?!” The red eyed man snarled, face pinched in an expression of fury as he rubbed circles on Ludwig’s back, comforting his brother even when it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to get up and teach the Italian a thing or two. “Don’t talk to him like that; Antonio is just trying to help! You’re not the only one who’s lost a-“

“ _Gilbert._ ” Antonio cut him off, voice stony and carrying more weight than anything else he said that day as he glanced over his shoulder and fixed the German with a stern look, communicating that now wasn’t the time to talk about that. 

Gilbert, to his credit, grit his teeth and jerked his gaze away from Lovino with a distain that was obvious on his face. 

Francis was the one who broke up the mounting tension, his words cautious and body language non-threatening as he held up his hands. “Lovino, we know you’re upset.” He began, pursing his lips as he chose his words carefully now that a sharp hazel gaze was directed at him. 

Depending on what he said, the situation could either escalate or diffuse. 

“We just want to make this easier for you.” He spoke slowly and softly to discourage any kind of resistance from the fiery, broken man. “We want to help you, okay? There’s no need to yell.” He carefully made his way to Antonio and gently put a hand on his shoulder, a wordless reassurance. “Antonio especially wants to help you. He won’t do anything you don’t want him to, so let me ask you.” He watched Lovino’s tear smudged eyes zero in on the hand he had on Antonio’s shoulder. “What do you want us to do?”

With that question asked, the choice being given to Lovino, the man visibly calmed down. Maybe it was because he felt reassured that no one would try to take Feliciano away from him, no one could tell, but whatever it was, his stance and dangerous expression slowly faded into one of complete and utter exhaustion.

Silence took over the room for long enough that the growls outside could be heard clearly, the sound of crunching twigs and leaves under the feet of the undead almost deafening in combination with the gasping coming from Ludwig as he tried to stop breaking down in his brother’s hold.

Lovino opened and closed his mouth a few times before a tired breath passed his lips and a soft voice filled the silence. What could he ask them to do? Separating himself from his brother was out of the question, as he was sure the others in the room knew, so in reality, there was little he could ask. “Just-” He started, losing his voice when he blinked heavily and fought to avoid Antonio’s gaze through the tears building up. “Just leave me alone tonight.” He pleaded softly, jostling Feliciano in his arms and hugging him closer, too worn down to pay attention to the fact that his brother was so light that he wasn’t struggling to hold him.

Antonio started as soon as Lovino spoke, looking like he was about to object before Francis put a hand on his shoulder and kept him still, knowing mayhem would break out if the Spaniard tried to do anything after what Lovino said to him. It would take them both some time to come to terms with what happened and what was said. Francis knew that all too well, so the plea to be left alone was a good choice. The only problem was convincing everyone to abide by the Italian’s wishes. 

“Lovino asked to be left alone,” Francis told Antonio gently but firmly, the turmoil the Spaniard was going through visible on his face. He had a lot to absorb, after all. “Let him be by himself tonight, okay? Tomorrow we can ask if he wants us to help with anything.” He calmly told Antonio, hoping his soft and familiar voice would mollify the man. As it was, he could see Antonio’s fists clenched tightly by his sides, his dirty and jagged nails digging into his palm with the effort of holding himself back.

“If he wants to be alone, then make him go upstairs.” Gilbert growled from behind Francis and Antonio, glaring at Lovino from around the Spaniard’s hip as he rubbed his hands over Ludwig’s trembling shoulders, every hitch in his breathing sputtering and wet. It was obvious he wasn’t over what Lovino said to Antonio, but they didn’t have time to address that right then. 

Francis shot a disapproving look at Gilbert for that. “Gilbert.” He frowned, giving Antonio’s shoulder a squeeze. “Now isn’t the time.” 

No one mentioned how this would affect their plans for Marina, though Francis was sure Gilbert would bring it up at some point soon.

But until that happened, all they could do was watch as Lovino came to a decision and slowly backed up toward the staircase, not taking his eyes off the living room but stubbornly avoiding Antonio’s gaze entirely until he was out of sight. The only indication that he made it to a room and holed himself there was the sound of a slamming door and the telltale creak of something being set down on one of the old beds. 

An exhausted sigh was released from Francis as he took his hand off of Antonio and made his way over to Gilbert to help with consoling Ludwig. Gilbert was having a tough time keeping the man from barreling up the stairs and breaking down the door to get to Feliciano by himself, so he figured it was up to him to help. With how Antonio was still staring at the staircase the Italian went up, there was no way he would be of any help. “Antonio.” He called out without having to turn around to see him. “Don’t you dare go up those stairs. Lovino trusts you to do the one thing he asked of you, and if you break that trust, he’ll do a lot worse than yell at you.” He warned the man, feeling a sick sense of pity and helplessness churning in his gut when he heard a shaky exhale from behind him combine with Ludwig’s own sounds of mourning. 

“…I know.” Antonio sniffled, hastily scrubbing a hand over his eyes to keep tears from falling, “I just… I want to be there for him. I want to help him, but I- I don’t know how.” 

With one hand on Ludwig’s back and one on his knee as he adjusted his position into a more comfortable crouch, Francis felt his heart break for their whole group. “You know…” Francis began, hesitating for a moment. “You’ve been through this situation before-”

He decided to ignore the sudden tenseness of Antonio’s shoulders. 

“-and because you know how it feels, I don’t doubt you’ll find a way to help him through this. But for now, he needs to be alone.” Francis paused. “You were the same way after what happened to Gabriel.”

Just hearing that name made Antonio’s whole body tense up, and suddenly Francis regretted going this far. He was just trying to get the man to understand.

“This isn’t the same.” Antonio all but whispered, barely audible to the others in the room despite their close proximity. His mouth opened once more to prove his point, but it closed quickly as he struggled with getting the words out. “It’s not the same.”

This time it was Gilbert who spoke up. “It is, Antonio. It’s not the same circumstances, but it’s basically the same thing. Losing your bro-“

A harsh sound cut through the air as the sound of nails scratching the rotting wood of the front door echoed through the room. In the heat of their arguments, their voices rose enough for the walkers outside to hear them. It wasn’t surprising, but it was certainly concerning. Any lapse of control had the possibility of being fatal.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Antonio grunted as he closed himself off and forced his feet to bring him to another corner of the house and away from his friends, needing time to himself. 

Francis and Gilbert said nothing as they watched him go, one more relieved than the other for him to be out of the room. “You know,” Francis spoke softly after a few moments of silence, “I don’t think he realizes how similar he and Lovino are.”

Gilbert snorted without humor at that, the vice around his heart lessening as Ludwig seemed to wear himself out in his arms, his much bulkier form becoming heavier as he gave up keeping himself upright. “Yeah,” He agreed. “They’re both idiots.”

-

Morning came faster than anyone wished it did. Light filtered into the ransacked house and lit up its most gruesome features, but with it, came a kind of stillness in the air that only happened early in the morning when the sun was just rising. 

It was a cold morning, cooler than the ones previous, the hairs on Lovino’s arms standing on end as a cool breeze ruffled his knotted hair and making his eyes water annoyingly.

But that wasn’t what he was focused on.

The mound of freshly moved earth remained still in front of him no matter how desperately Lovino wished his brother would drag himself out of his untimely grave and announce this was all a joke, that he wasn’t really gone. Hell, he was ready to trade his own soul just to see Feliciano’s smiling face one more time, and given the amount of space everyone minus Antonio was giving him, he guessed they knew exactly what he was thinking. 

No one said a word as a gentle gust of wind whistled by them, gently tousling hair and sending shivers down Antonio’s spine from where he stood beside him. Lovino could see goosebumps erupt across the tan skin of the other's arms but said nothing as the man took his hands out from behind his back and carefully walked forward toward the mound in the ground, a makeshift cross woven out of broken sticks and grass sticking out of the dirt as a marker of where Feliciano would stay forever. He fiddled with the bundle of flowers he had gathered from the bushes growing wildly around the foundation of the house, his nails dirty and cracked from the effort. “...I don’t know what to say.” Antonio began in a carefully soft voice as the wind seemed to die around them, the forest that lay behind the shack of a house they were staying in eerily quiet, as if in anticipation of what he was about to say.

No one offered any words after that and Antonio didn't continue, all too lost it their own thoughts as Lovino watched in a strange sort of detachment as Antonio set a bundle of white flowers on the fresh mound of dirt, slowly, as if moving too fast would break the people around him. “White carnations,” He murmured soft enough for only the Italian to hear him as he straightened back up. “They represent good luck and pure love. I thought…” His voice trailed off and became softer as he spoke his mind. If Lovino wanted to yell at him for this then so be it, but he wanted to say it. “Well, I thought Feliciano deserved them.” 

Lovino didn’t say anything in response, but the minute softening of his eyes let Antonio know that he did the right thing, and that was honestly more than he could have ever asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING FOR SO LONG!! My grandfather died recently and he was someone I was really close to, so writing about death and dying really didn't do me any favors so I kind of just let this sit here for a while.  
> I'm all better now though, so I should get back to updating!  
> Also sorry for this one being so short, getting back into the hang of writing.


	18. Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New plans are discussed while Lovino and Antonio come to terms with reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i might have forgotten about this, but even though i'm not as into hetalia as i have been (super into HQ and YOI rn), im gonna try and see this through. Sorry for taking so long! ;u;

After Feliciano’s burial, the day went by in a haze of gathering supplies and making half-hearted attempts at formulating some kind of plan, something Gilbert insisted on.

No one had the heart nor the energy to defy him. Especially not Ludwig, who had taken up residence on the couch and refused to look anyone in the eye or move from his curled up position. His pale skin was even more ashen than usual, almost giving off the aura of someone who was dead rather than simply grieving.

They couldn’t pause life and deal with it properly, though. The wounds were still too fresh for everyone there. 

“So if we cut through the woods here, we can bypass downtown and avoid confrontation. As it is, we’re already suffering from lost time, so this will hopefully make up for it.” Gilbert explained to them as he jabbed a dirty finger at where he was talking about on the map, some more eager to listen than others. Residue from whatever was on his skin stuck to the page in a mockery of how badly he needed a shower. “It shouldn’t be a tough area, but…” He trailed off as he spared a glance at his brother and bit his lip. “We’ll have enough trouble keeping our heads on straight. What’s a little more adventure?” He said wryly.

At that, Antonio threw a glance over at the door, knowing if he opened it and looked outside, he would see Lovino kneeling in front of the grave they had dug earlier. The boy hadn’t moved an inch in the past few hours he’d been out there, and Antonio didn’t have the guts to go out and comfort him quite yet. 

The words that had been thrown in his face yesterday in the heat of the moment still rang clear in his mind. Of course Lovino had been forgiven the moment he finished speaking, as he almost always was when it came to Antonio, but the Spaniard wouldn’t forget what he said. If he wanted space, if he needed it so badly, then he would do his best to give it to him, even if it meant another night of fitful slumber as he worried over the man who refused to sleep in the same room with him.

“-ey, Toni,” Gilbert snapped his fingers in front of the Spaniard’s face to get his attention. “Dude, quit looking at the door; he’s still out there, Francis checked a few minutes ago. We really need to plan this out and I can’t do it by myself.”

Antonio was quick to offer his friend a halfhearted smile in apology. “Sorry,” he murmured. “But I can’t stop thinking about him. I’m probably not the best person to talk to about this right now anyway.” He shrugged. “Francis is much better at planning than me.”

Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at how shaggy and overgrown it was getting. Or at least that was what Antonio guessed made him pull a face like that.

He couldn’t tell anymore.

“Antonio,” Francis spoke up from where he was crouching down on the floor by the beat up old map they had discovered in one of the desks upstairs. “I know he told you to leave him alone, and I’m sure he can see how hard you’re trying to listen to him.” The Frenchman offered him a smile so small and fragile that Antonio wished he hadn’t seen it at all. It was so unlike his confident best friend that it hurt to see. “But he might appreciate you going out there and offering him something to eat. It’s been a while since his last meal, no?”

That was enough to propel Antonio to his feet faster than he could send an apologetic glance at Ludwig and everyone else. They would be fine without him for a few minutes he reasoned as he strode over to his backpack by the end of the couch and stuck his hand inside in search of something edible. He wouldn’t go through Lovino’s things, so using his own supply was all he could do.

If there was one thing he knew, it was hunger. Not the kind people felt day to day when they had to skip a meal or didn't get enough to eat at lunch time, but actual soul sucking, all consuming hunger. It was illogical to think that Lovino had reached that stage yet, the stage where all he could think about was food and everything else suddenly held little meaning, but he wouldn't let it get that far. 

He couldn't.

-

Stepping out into the fresh air after being sent inside earlier that morning was just the kind of refresher Antonio needed. Crisp air filled his lungs as he clutched the best fruit and nut bar he could find in his hand and kept his gaze trained on the man kneeling in front of the grave they had constructed.

Lovino’s shoulders were hunched and dirty, and as he came closer, Antonio noticed just how _small_ the younger man looked. It was as if he was trying to fold into himself and cease to exist, lost in his own little world, and for the first time since Francis had suggested going to see him, Antonio began to have second thoughts as he came up a few feet behind the other. Being around him had never felt like something he had to force himself to do; it always felt natural, but now he was beginning to rethink what he was doing. Maybe Lovino wouldn’t appreciate him coming outside and interrupting him? Maybe if-

“What do you want.” A worn but deep voice cut through the air and froze him on the spot, words not phrased as a question but more like a fact, as if Lovino already knew what he was going to say without even turning around to confirm who he was.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Antonio realized he wasn’t all that surprised the Italian could read him so well. He had been told he was like an open book in the past, and even though he was often praised for being able to read people, he had a feeling Lovino had him beat in that area. 

Gulping, Antonio felt the hand holding the snack tremble for a split second before he steeled himself for more yelling. “You’ve been out here for a long time, so I uh… I figured you might be hungry?” He lost his nerve halfway through and ended up phrasing his statement as a question, watching with a hawk like gaze as Lovino’s shoulders relaxed just minutely, a change he would have missed had he not been concentrating so hard.

Lovino didn’t say anything, but a lack of words didn’t exactly mean he was being pushed away. It wasn’t a confirmation that he was doing the right thing either. It was merely an acknowledgement if anything, but Antonio took it as a good sign. 

At least it was something.

“We’re worried for you,” Antonio started, voice soft and careful as he stood his ground and watched the way Lovino’s body tensed just a bit at the sound of his voice. He couldn’t decide how to feel about that.  
There was no way he would breach the subject on moving on to another location to Lovino so soon. As it was, the Italian was handling this whole situation poorly; not like he expected anything different of course, but it would just add insult to injury to mention that Gilbert was planning on a route to take as soon as they could get moving. 

Lovino was silent for a few minutes, not turning around to take the offered food or even look at Antonio, and the Spaniard wasn’t about to break the silence. He could wait for however long it took until the Italian felt read to take the food.

So, when a gentle hand reached out and took the bar out of his grasp in a move so fragile and slow that it nearly stopped Antonio’s heart, he kept his mouth shut. 

“…thank you.” Lovino whispered as he continued staring at the makeshift tombstone, the final resting place for Feliciano. His fingers fiddled with the wrapper as he still refused to make eye contact, but Antonio was alright with that. Even if the bar wasn’t eaten and was put away for another time, that was alright. The fact that Lovino took it in the first place showed Antonio that he was still willing to keep going, and that was what he had been worried about the most. 

For once, he was alright with Lovino being quiet. It meant that he was thinking, that he was at least not giving up on eating and still had the presence of mind to thank him for the food. It was a sense of normalcy that felt out of place considering the situation, but he was still grateful for the reaction. 

“You’re welcome, Lovi.” He murmured softly as the other man still refused to look at him, his chestnut strands being rustled by a breeze that rolled by. The chill sent a round of goosebumps down Antonio’s back.   
Even with the unusually cool air for a summer day, Antonio wasn’t about to go back inside even though he knew Gilbert and Francis must be painfully curious about what was happening. The thought of leaving Lovino alone out here with nothing but the trees and the grave of his only brother made a hard lump form in his throat, so before he could think too much about it, he strode up beside Lovino and sat down on the grass cross legged, not daring to look up at the man he knew was probably watching him with a confused expression. 

All he could focus on was the subtle warmth of their thighs bumping together, so when he heard Lovino’s voice pipe up suddenly, he felt his heart nearly stop.

“Go back inside.” Lovino murmured, a tone of finality in his voice that had Antonio’s heart skipping a beat before sinking in his stomach. 

From this close up, he could see the way Lovino had rubbed his face raw in an effort to get rid of his tears. With his eyes puffy and baggy with nights of no sleep, he looked like more of a mess than when he had first met the Italian in Wal-Mart. Even the dirt on his face appeared as though it had been rubbed right into the pores like a new layer of skin.

There was no way he was going back inside though. This was a delicate situation they had been dealt, and he was going to have to maneuver around the walls Lovino was putting up if he wanted to reach the boy. He knew this of course, but knowing and acting were two different things. “Not without you.” He replied easily, rolling his shoulders and resting his weight on the hands propping him up behind his back, leaning his head back to look up at the Italian in a much more confident manner than he felt. 

Lovino looked much more ridged than earlier, his dirty, anxiety bitten nails curled into fists in his lap, the knuckles turning white with the force of his clenching. Antonio didn’t blame him.

He would react the same way.

“I’m not leaving him,” Lovino spat under his breath, clenching his fists at his sides as he refused to look at Antonio. 

And not for the first time, Antonio was almost bowled over by the ferocity of Lovino’s loyalty. There was no doubt in his mind that the hazel eyed man would sit right where he was and refuse to move until he took his last breath if he had his way. 

The Spaniard blew a frustrated but understanding breath through his teeth before leaning forward and supporting himself with his elbows perched on his knees. “Listen, Lovino,” He began, studying the white flowers he had draped over the gravestone yesterday. They weren’t wilting as fast as he thought they would, and it made him unbearably happy to know that they would last for a long time. Feliciano deserved the best, after all. “I know this is hard for you, okay? We’ve all lost our families, friends, lovers, acquaintances…" Antonio sucked on his bottom lip as pictures of the people he'd known in everyday life flashed through his mind. God, was it really so long ago? It must have been, because some people he couldn't remember the faces of. Or worse; what he remembered was the face of the undead monster that wore their face. That memory caused goosebumps to pop up over his skin. "Everyone inside knows what it’s like.”

He finally felt a pair of eyes on him, and despite the thrill it gave him, he knew that gaze wasn’t an adoring one, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet them.

“What the _fuck,_ ” Lovino hissed, baring his teeth and glaring at Antonio in all his bloodshot eyed glory, the grime and grief on his face making him look like nothing more than a dirty little boy who had lost his reason to live. “What the fuck do you know about it? I didn’t ask you to be out here; all I wanted to do was say goodbye to Feliciano without you assholes interrupting me, but I can’t even have that!” He drew in a harsh breath of air to prevent himself from breaking into a new round of sobs. 

Antonio felt a pang of regret hit him as soon as Lovino spoke. What was he thinking, lecturing the other boy on how he wasn’t the only one who lost someone? It was just the speech that Francis had given him when he lost everything, so he foolishly thought Lovino would take to the words as well as he had. He was wrong of course, as he sometimes tended to be when it came to the Italian. The man was so unpredictable at times that he just couldn’t decide what to say. “I know.” Antonio murmured, pretending to ignore the tears he could see Lovino discreetly scrubbing off his face. 

Lovino scoffed at him. “No you don’t.” He muttered thickly, staring holes into the grave marker almost as though he believed if he were to stare long enough, Feliciano would stare back. “None of you do.”

“I do.” Antonio argued softly. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but I just… I can’t let you stay out here and be alone after going through something like this. Gilbert, Francis, me… we’ve all lost people, even before all of this. It’s just a fact of life in the world we live in now, but what really makes a difference is who you surround yourself with to help cope.”

Not a sound came from Lovino, but Antonio didn’t need to hear him to know what he was thinking. 

Lovino made a garbled sound that Antonio guessed was supposed to be a laugh. “I didn’t ask you to come out here and give me sob stories.” 

And there was the familiar fire Antonio was used to, but he didn’t want to hear it right then. What he wanted was… well, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t this. “I know.” Was all he could say.

Minutes that felt like hours passed by, the soft hum of insects in the woods adding a background noise as Antonio stared down at that makeshift gravestone that would forever hold that sunny man, counting the pristine petals on the wreath he made as they sat in silence. It almost felt like years had gone by before he heard Lovino move beside him, shifting just enough to lean part of his shoulder against Antonio, almost as if he couldn’t support all of his own weight anymore, like the burden he was carrying was too heavy to bear.

If that were the case, then Antonio was more than happy to help him shoulder it. 

-

“We have to make sure we don’t cross paths with that hoard of walkers that came by here the other night,” Francis piped up tiredly as he propped his arm on the couch and rested his face in the crook of his elbow, heavy eyes staring at the crumpled map that Gilbert had laid out on the floor. 

“They were heading this way,” He swiped his finger across where he estimated they currently were, “So if we head in the opposite direction, we’ll have a bit of wiggle room. As long as we don’t run into any more rag tag groups like that, we should be fine.” 

Francis remained quiet as he watched Gilbert’s eyes narrow at the paper like it had offended him somehow, anticipating the outburst before it started. 

“Ugh,” Gilbert grunted, pushing the map away from himself and running his grungy hands down his face in exhaustion. “This sucks so bad.” 

Despite their situation, Francis let out a dry snort. “You’re just realizing this?” 

Gilbert glared at him for that for a moment before his expression softened and the lines between his brows became more deep, almost like they were permanently etched into his skin. “No. This has sucked for a long, long time.” He admitted, leaning back and supporting himself with his arms as he stared at the ceiling. “But what sucks even more is that we’re gonna have to convince Lovino to leave this place and come with us. If he doesn’t agree to come, then you know for a fact that Antonio won’t leave him. And that’s not all; we have to think about Ludwig, too.”

Francis sighed and stared down at the floor before chancing a glance at Ludwig. It must be killing Gilbert not to be doting on his brother and soothing his wounds, but everyone knew that Gilbert had a job to do. He was their impromptu leader, and if he were to give up on his duties and abandon planning and strategizing to focus solely on his brother, then everything they built up would come tumbling down.

Once they found a safe place, or better yet, Marina, they could focus on the feelings they were all forcing themselves to push aside. There would be time to dig up the emotions they had all buried deep within themselves, but now wasn’t the time. “Antonio is the only one who can convince Lovino to stay with us.” Francis said. 

That much was obvious, or at least it was to Gilbert. Those two had been almost inseparable ever since they met (the few hiccups with Lovino trying to tell Antonio off had no effect so he didn’t count those), and he doubted they would part because of what happened to Feliciano. If things went the way he hoped they would, it would bring them together. 

Lovino and Antonio had a lot more in common than they thought. 

“But if he can’t convince Lovino to leave, then we have to think of a plan B.” Francis continued, unaware of Gilbert’s thoughts drifting off. “If it comes down to it, we can fortify this cabin and make it here for a few weeks, or at least until Lovino can be convinced to leave.” It wasn’t the best idea given how old and run down this place was, but it was an unspoken agreement that they weren’t about to leave either of the two men here alone. "We could go hunting or searching for food around here and see how long we can last before we have to move."

“This place is a disaster,” Gilbert frowned. “The windows would have to be fortified and the doors would have to be blocked. We would have to pin blankets over the windows so we can’t be seen from outside, and don’t even get me started on the state of these walls.” He threw a hand in the direction of the weak wooden walls that looked like they were barely holding the house together as though to prove his point. “We can’t exactly go outside and cut down trees to remake this whole shithouse without being seen by the Traveling Neighborhood Association out there.”

That was true. Cutting down trees would make a lot of noise, and that wasn’t even taking into account that they had no way of cutting them down in the first place. Francis could see the frustration mounting on Gilbert’s face and made the quick decision to cut in and stop his rambling. “Alright, so we don’t stay here. Maybe if some of us go up the road a little further and see what we can find, we can regroup and come up with a plan. There could be better hiding places up the road than this shack.”

It was a sound suggestion, Gilbert knew, but the idea of actually splitting up left a sour taste in his mouth. “No,” He shot down the suggestion before anyone had time to actually think about it. “No one is splitting up. If we’re going to make it through, there’s no way any of us can go off on our own.” It was a horrible idea to go off alone, and even if they disguised the decision as a plan, Gilbert recognized it for what it was. 

A suicide mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if there are any spelling mistakes or anything because I looked it over once and didn't see any but I'm positive I missed a ton.  
> Comments are always appreciated!


End file.
